


Like The Raging Sea

by Hekate1308



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, The bachelor inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-07-20 15:07:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 37,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16139801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: When Crowley begrudingly accepted that the mock application that Gavin had sent on his behalf meant that he would have to compete for Dean Winchester's heart on the newest season of The Bachelor, he could never have foreseen the consequences. Drowley.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's "Lis wants to read something and doesn't find it so she wrote it herself" time again, my pretties. Enjoy!

While the phone was ringing, Crowley took a few deep breaths. There was no reason to suppose malice or even a general wish to annoy him behind Gavin’s actions; on the contrary, he had probably believed all this to be a well-meant prank that would help them bond.

What a mistake _that_ had been.

He picked up on the third ring, which was more than Crowley had expected. Most people tended to get out of his way when they had reason to think he was angry at them.

“Hello, Father” he said cheerfully, and to his credit Crowley couldn’t tell whether it was forced or not.

“Gavin, you wouldn’t happen to know why I just got a call from a TV producer, wouldn’t you?”

His son’s laughter told him all he needed to know. “They actually picked you?”

“It would seem so” he answered, carefully keeping his temper in check. While he had never wished to be a father, ever since his adult son had made contact, he had seen it as his duty to at least keep their relationship somewhat friendly. “But why you would think I am a good contestant for the format, I have no idea.”

“Come on, can’t you take a joke?”

“No” he replied simply.

Gavin sighed. “Apart from the fact that yes, this is funny, I think it would be good for you. Getting out there, matting new people, perhaps fall in love with Dean Winchester...”

And that was another reason Crowley had known this had to be a joke from the second Balthazar Roché had introduced himself. Everyone knew who this was about.

Dean Winchester, who was going to be America’s Sweetheart in the next season of the long-running but utterly asinine (at least in Crowley’s opinion) _The Bachelor_.

While he was definitely attractive, Crowley couldn’t imagine anyone he could have less in common with, and that included Gavin’s mother, who had been little more than a one night stand. Until he’d rang his bell six months ago, he hadn’t even known they had produced a son.

To Gavin’s credit, he had shown up demanding a paternity test, even though he’d later admitted he had been pretty sure already.

But he digressed.

The point was, he couldn’t imagine –

“Plus, it’s good publicity.”

“You do realize that everything, from my age to my appearance and my, while considerable, often derided social skills, designate me as the villain?”

“And don’t they usually get almost as much, if not more, press than the winner?”

That was true. He couldn’t deny that.

“And this season is already bound to get more attention than the previous ones since Dean is the first bisexual bachelor.”

That was another argument in Gavin’s favour.

And really, Crowley suddenly thought, there was no reason to think he would lose much time he could devote to his business instead – after all, why not provoke an éclat on the very first evening – that cocktail party thing, if he remembered correctly – and be thrown out immediately? That would certainly attract enough attention.

“You’re going to do it” Gavin said, sounding more than a little amused, and in the safety of his office where no one could see him, Crowley permitted himself to roll his eyes at his antics.

“I am considering taking the offer, yes. Which doesn’t mean I condone your actions.”

“Oh Father, live a little.”

He would never understand why Gavin ad his wife Fiona had decided to “drag him out of his shell” or why they considered he was living in one to begin with.

He had already learned it was nothing they were to be dissuaded from. He sighed.

He would have to call Roché back after all.

 _Sometime_ _later_

“This season of The Bachelor is certainly more anticipated than several of the previous ones, due to the contestants. There has never been a mix of boys and girls before.”

The two morning show hosts couldn’t have been more excited. Really, considering Dean Winchester was thirty-eight and had apparently succeeded in demanding that no one under the age of twenty-five could apply (even Crowley would admit that had been the decent thing to do), the press could at least not have called them “boys and girls.”

Gavin had sent him the video, naturally. Ever since he had agreed to be a part of this season, he had paid little attention to the details. After all, he would be gone after the first night.

“Oh yes, this is bound to get interesting. Dean Winchester has acknowledged that there is a big a chance of him going home with either a guy or a girl!”

Why everyone insisted on treating bisexuality like they hadn’t been aware of it until Dean Winchester had decided that he wouldn’t hide his was a mystery to Crowley. He himself had never made any difference when it came to the gender of his companions for the night.

“And the contestants prove to be an interesting bunch. Now, we all know Cassie Robinson is already considered a favourite, but what about the lesser known ones?”

“Yes, there are a few in there, some of which have a pretty good chance of winning Dean’s heart... others, not so much”. The man smirked and suddenly Crowley knew all too well why Gavin had sent him the video, probably chuckling to himself while he did so.

His son indeed.

“I wouldn’t put it past Benny Lafitte to make an impression... Dean has already proudly declared that he loves to eat, and pie especially.”

If Dean Winchester had been a woman, people would have glorified or hated him for that simple fact, instead of just stating it.

“Yes, but I meant...” the man was obviously trying to hold back his laughter. “This season is certainly more... inclusive, but still, there’s an outlier, and not just because he is a bit older than the other candidates...”

There it was.

“Oh, you mean Crowley.”

“Fergus Crowley, am I right?”

He remembered requesting specifically that his first name not to be used in the press, and as far as he could tell Roché had tried to suppress it, but he could only do so much considering Crowley had more than a few disgruntled former employees who had simply never been good enough for his firm.

“Yes” the woman said, although she was at least trying to keep a straight face, other than her counterpart. “Now, I’m not saying that some people don’t deserve the chance to romance America’s new Sweetheart, but –“

“Come on Sharon, according to all sources we could find the guy’s a major – well, you know. Cold, unlikeable, harsh – and those were the people who weren’t _particularly_ angry at him. The one good thing I can say of him is that at least this time we don’t have to wonder who the villain is going to be, so we can focus on the good stuff.”

“Now, Mike, that’s unfair. Crowley” he noted with satisfaction that she apparently knew of his request and was honouring it “may seem like a bit much, but we have seen surprises on this show before.”

Mike snorted. “Really? Dean Winchester driving off into the sunset with Fergus Crowley? It would be a twist, I’ll give you that, but don’t you want better things for him? Didn’t you develop a crush on Dean when he was here last week?”

Crowley decided that he didn’t particularly care for Mike.

At least that was all anyone had to say about him. As far as candidates went, he was more or less ignored, which was fine by him. He’d come in, cause a huge scandal on that first night and go his own way, while Dean Winchester could pretend to fall in love on television.

Nothing could go wrong.

* * *

 

“Hello, I am Charlie! If this is not the worst contestant ever!”

He would have been annoyed, only that it was rather clear that the young redhead didn’t mean it as an insult. If anything, she seemed more than happy that she was the makeup artist chosen for him.

Only later would he learn that was indeed true, and why.

“I think I have been cast as such in the media, yes.”

“Oh, well-spoken bad boy in a suit? Wow, Dean is gonna –“ she broke off but he registered that she had spoken of Dean Winchester with more familiarity than seemed a little strange considering she was nothing but the make-up artist. He filed the information away in case he could use it later.

She cleared her throat. “Now let me take a look at what we have here...”

Crowley knew that he was not bad-looking by any means. He had taken good care of his health and his looks over the years, and he knew how to dress to his advantage. Still, he had never been as carefully scrutinized as he was now.

“Hm, the suit is good but I think we’re going to go with something a bit shinier for the cocktail party.”

“What do you mean, shiny?” he demanded, a white abomination with glitter all over it appearing before his inner eye.

“Oh, don’t look like that. I mean, we are definitely keeping the Armani suit, but I am thinking even better tailored, and blood red tie and pocket square, you know, keeping it classy. Oh yes, definitely. And then we can maybe trim the beard a little –“

“Wait –“

“I said a little, trust me, I’m an artist –“

He wasn’t sure he trusted Charlie in that regard.

Once she had him in her chair and was working away, she said, “Alright, tell me about yourself.”

“I thought that was supposed to happen when the cameras are rolling?”

“Yes, but this is me being interested!”

“Aren’t you a bit too nosy for this kind of thing, considering the producers are keeping everything under wraps?”

They were both testing the waters, and they knew it. Crowley had always appreciated it when he met someone who knew how the game was played.

“Come on, we might as well make this fun!”

He couldn’t agree with her there – apart from the fact that Gavin was having way too much fun with it all – but still. Maybe it was not a bad idea to have someone from the team on his side – especially if he wanted to stage a dramatic exit later that night.

And so, he decided to engage with her. “I am afraid I am very much what the media have declared me to be.”

“No one is completely that. Do you really think Dean is that pure cinnamon roll who just takes everything the world throws his way with a humble _thank you_? Because if you do, you’ve got a surprise doming your way.”

Again, somewhat that seemed to speak of a closer relationship to Dean Winchester than any of the crew was supposed to let on. “I am aware that he has been somewhat... cast as America’s Sweetheart and that hardly anyone ever deserves that description.”

“If anyone does, it’s Dean” she assured him, somewhat contradicting what she had told him before, “But I meant there’s more to him than that. Layers and layers. Like an onion.”

She said that as if he was supposed to get the reference.

“Not that many layers to me, Miss –“

“Charlie.”

“Charlie. I am exactly what I appear to be.”

Not quite (just like Dean Winchester, at least according to her), but still. Close enough. She and all the others would have to deal with that, if only for a few hours.

* * *

He had never understood why the limousine was necessary. Or why they all had to use the same one. He could have brought his own.

Still, here he was.

This time, the producers that were had decided to throw them in the cold water and have their very first interaction on the show be with the bachelor himself. Crowley was not the least bit nervous. He knew Dean Winchester was rather attractive, but that was all there was to him, as far as he was concerned.

And then he got out of the limousine.

His first thought was _This is just unfair._


	2. Chapter 2

Yes, he had known Dean Winchester looked good, that he was in fact considered extraordinarily handsome even for this franchise; but none of the pictures he had seen had done him justice.

Dean Winchester was one of the most gorgeous men he had ever seen in his life. And he had seen a few.

And usually taken them to bed.

Sadly, this wasn’t an option here.

Dean gave him a bright smile. Crowley hated to admit it, but he actually felt like it lit up the room. “Hey. Crowley, right?”

“I assume pretending we have no idea who we are would be too much even for the audience of this show” he drawled, determined to get this over with as quickly as possible. It didn’t matter that Dean Winchester was beautiful – as a matter of fact, it have him all the more reason to get away as quickly as possible. Otherwise he’d just grow frustrated because he couldn’t have him.

To his surprise, Dean threw his head back and laughed, loudly and openly. “Aren’t you a walking ray of sunshine.”

“I do what I can.”

“I’m sure you do.” He held out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

He couldn’t recall the last time someone had said those words to him and meant it. And yet Dean somehow did.

He shook his hand.

Dean winked. “Looking forward to getting to know you better.”

Crowley knew that that was what he told everyone, and yet...

No. No and yet. He was here for one simple reason, and he was going home tonight.

“Well then, don’t let me keep you. Bela wants her interviews to start punctually.” Another bright grin. “See you at the party.”

“Oh, you will” he answered, causing Dean to laugh again, and then he stepped away from him and towards the room where the host was waiting for him.

Bela Talbot had been the host for several seasons of the show now; he didn’t know much about her; since he didn’t plan to stick around, it hadn’t seemed necessary to compile data about everyone he was going to meet; but when he met her shrewd glance, he began to wonder if that had been a mistake.

“Mr. Crowley” she greeted him with a fake smile – unlike Dean’s. The cameras were already rolling, naturally. Why would you give anyone a chance to breathe?

“Miss Talbot” he answered evenly.

“Just back from the first meeting with our bachelor. If you need a minute to gather yourself, I’d understand.”

“Sadly, I am not that easily distracted by a pretty face.”

She perked up at his reaction, clearly realizing what he was trying to do. “So you don’t think Dean is very handsome?”

“I didn’t say that, as I am sure you noticed.”

Bela’s eyes narrowed; yes, she definitely knew what he was going for. “Now, then, why don’t you tell us how you came to be here?”

“Someone entered me because they thought it would be funny, and I have nothing against free publicity” he said, smirking.

Even Bela hadn’t expected that. “Are you saying you’re not even interested in Dean?”

He grinned. “I wouldn’t say that. I could see myself become interested enou8gh but no, I am not here to try and find love. I have always been very happy on my own.”

“Well, if anything that’s... refreshingly honest. And Dean has told us he thinks honesty very important in a relationship.”

“Usually code for he got cheated on in a previous one” he said cheerfully.

“Now, I don’t think this will endear you to the audience.”

Crowley shrugged. “Last time I checked, a business consultant has to increase the performance of your business, and that hardly ever means being gentle and nice about it.”

Bela glowered at him. “How about we just put your company’s logo over the screen for the entirety this interview?”

“That would suit my purpose wonderfully, but you’re not going to do it, are you?”

“No” she answered in the same tone.

Yes, he was going to get kicked out tonight, and he couldn’t have been happier about it. Even if Dean Winchester’s eyes had sparkled beautifully in the light of the spotlights.

* * *

Charlie had made good of her promise, and so he’d been put into a new Armani suit with a blood-red tie and matching pocket square before boarding the limousine. He even had had to admit that she had done a good job with his beard, which was not something he would have expected.

As always when he entered the room, he first checked potential exits, then the people inside.

They – apart from Crowley himself, who had no qualms about admitting that he was somewhat above the average age of a reality TV show contestant – seemed to be the usual bunch you could expect from such entertainment for the masses. Some he recognized from that clip Gavin had sent him – Cassie Robinson and Benny Lafitte, for example – others were completely foreign to him, and he wondered if thinking that most of the young women and men looked alike made him a sexist or simply an old man who was slowly growing immune to such distractions.

Then again, thinking of Dean, maybe not.

It was Cassie Robinson who first stepped up to him after he’d accepted a glass of champagne from a waiter. At first, he thought she was simply confident in her role as the favourite and perhaps wanted to rub it in, but soon he was pleasantly surprised – she actually wanted to make everyone feel welcome.

She and Dean would make a wonderful couple for the few months such relationships usually lasted.

“I heard you were a business consultant” she said.

“Yes. Registered nurse, if I remember correctly?” he said smoothly. He had to admit that Gavin sending him the link had indeed proven to be a good idea. Still – Cassie was not a good target. He might have been a bastard, but she seemed to be sincere, and it wouldn’t be much fun to take her down a peg – or at least not as much fun as it would be with some others...

Next up, he used his formidable skills of pretending in being interested what other people had to say to make small talk with Benny. If Dean Winchester was indeed swayed by something as easy as homemade cooking, he could have stood a chance... if Crowley hadn’t suspected that, for all their ranting about how inclusive and important this season was, the show runners wouldn’t eventually push Dean towards a safe, also known as a female, choice.

He was still trying to pick the best victim for his villain act when suddenly, someone said behind him, “I think it’s good they gave a minimum age, this time around, but don’t you think they also should have stuck to a maximum age?”

His eyes met Benny’s and he raised an unimpressed eyebrow. If she – whoever it was – really thought he would feel self-conscious about his age... He could have chosen her as his nemesis, but frankly, it would have been too easy, not to mention catty and childish.

Undeterred by his dignified silence, she continued. “I mean, Dean needs someone to keep up with him, and I don’t think a grandpa is going to –“

This had gone far enough. Crowley turned around. “My son happens to be twenty-nine. Neither he nor his fiancé are planning on having children at present, so you are a bit premature if you assume I am a grandfather. What I am, however, is fifty-four years of age. I assure you, whatever vigour you think I have lost I make up for in experience.” He looked at her. Rather young, probably close to the cut-off age of twenty-five, blonde, wearing a rather short dress, not exactly skimpy, but certainly enough to attract any hot-blooded shallow male. Well; Crowley had never really said no to a pretty face, but for there to be a real attraction, he’d needed more than that. Strangely, he had the feeling that it was the same with Dean.

Alright, then. On he went. “However, _having_ this experience means that I am able to _retain_ it, of course – learn from past mistakes and so on. Since I actually possess a brain”.

 He didn’t bother to clarify that he, indeed, tended to avoid making mistakes altogether, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t insult her when he put his mind to it.

She blinked, then tried to understand what he had just said. He could hear Benny sniggering behind him. Huh. Seemed like he had found an ally, as unlikely as it was.

“Wait... Are you saying I’m stupid?” she suddenly shrieked.

“I fail to see how you could possibly make that assumption” he drawled, “But then, based on what you believe to infer simply from my age, I wouldn’t exactly disagree with –“

The next thing he knew, she had thrown her drink into his face. Not only had he considered it much more likely that she would start to cry instead of getting angry, but he’d also not thought that she would regress to such childish behaviour.

“I could sue you for that, you know” he said calmly. Anyone who knew anything about – anything would have realized that his tone of voice didn’t bide well, but of course the woman whose name he didn’t even know didn’t realize.

“How?” she demanded. “That suit belongs to the production company –“

Not as stupid as he had thought, then. Probably playing up the girly aspect of her personality in the hopes that it would endear her to Dean. Well, if it did, he truly didn’t deserve his good looks. “That may be, but what about the inconvenience and the pain you caused me?”

“You’re not in pain!”

“I could have gotten champagne in my eye...”

“Oh yes” Benny piped up, “And that can really be a pain the ass, Mesdames, let me tell you.”

Indeed, several of the other contestants had drawn a circle around them; unsurprisingly, most seemed to be on the side of Crowley’s opponent.

“Sounds like you” another woman scowled, “You’re not even here for the right reasons!”

So they had heard about his interview with Bela. The producers had probably made sure they would, to create drama. “At least I am honest about my intentions. Can any of you say the same?” he asked while using his pocket square to wipe his face.

The answer was an outcry, of course, as he had known it would be. While many of the other contestants (but not all – Cassie was an exception, Benny was of course still on Crowley’s side, and another British man he believed was called Arthur Ketch was standing in a corner, looking bored and what he probably thought was superior) started protesting, he simply stood there and waited for them to stop. He knew the producers would make sure to cut the scene in a way that painted him in the worst light possible, especially after his admissions to Bela Talbot, so why bother? If you could get others to do your dirty work, it usually was a good idea to allow just that to happen.

“And to think” yet another one was telling him, “That someone cared enough for you to want you to try and find love, and instead you are here insulting those who came for exactly that and not even trying to play nice –“

“Now –“ Benny tried to intervene, but Crowley shook his head. In the unlikely case he’d still need an ally here after this scene, it was better that Benny not be made a target as well.

Her monologue was still going strong when a voice interrupted them. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t expect something like this.”

Crowley looked to the door and was surprised to once again find Dean Winchester grinning brightly at him.


	3. Chapter 3

“Now, what seems to be the problem here?” Dean demanded, stepping up to them. He had changed between greeting them and arriving at the mansion, and was now wearing another perfectly tailored suit with a green tie that brought out his eyes.

Crowley’s opponent’s eyes were brimming with tears. “Oh Dean –“ she threw herself into his arms to be comforted, the perfect damsel in distress. Even with his considerable skills, that was a role Crowley would never have been able to play.

She had started to cry. Wonderful. He rolled his eyes. “I’m the one who had a glass of champagne thrown into his face.”

“Was the champagne still in the glass?” Dean asked immediately, studying him, and with not a small amount of surprise, Crowley realized he actually sounded worried.

America’s Sweetheart indeed.

“No, but the suit –“

“And then” she sobbed “He said that he would sue me and ruin me!”

“That certainly sounds like the guy I met up front” Dean told her while trying to politely detach himself, but she wouldn’t let go of his suit.

“Yes” the woman whose rant he had interrupted chimed in, “And really, we all feel that it would be best if Fergus was let go –“

That was a low blow.

“You’ve known him for what, five minutes!?” Dean exclaimed.

“And that is long enough to feel sure that he wants nothing to do with this, or you! Why would you keep someone around who only wants to promote his business when we’re all here for you!?”

“I actually think it’s nice to have someone being honest, ladies” Ketch’s British (really overly British; Crowley was sure he hadn’t sounded like that even back when he had still lived in the UK) baritone suddenly let itself be known.

The look he shot Crowley was calculating. He probably thought that if he were kept around instead of one of the women, he’d have it easier.

Pathetic.

“Yes, Chief” Benny addressed Dean, “Crowley was really just minding his own business and then she started to harp on him about his age –“

“So he insulted me!”

“Doesn’t this mean you did it first?” Dean asked mildly, now showing slight signs of irritation that irrationally made Crowley feel more comfortable. Seemed like he wasn’t so perfect after all.

How... interesting. A pity they wouldn’t get to know each other better.

Because even if Dean (as the couple in Gavin’s video had claimed) had been given more control over the show than previous bachelors, keeping Crowley at this point would antagonise at least half of the other contestants, and surely one of them being kicked out after talking to the others for barely a quarter of an hour was enough drama for the evening.

To his credit, however, he didn’t cave immediately. “Alright alright alright, how about we all have another drink, and calm down, and then we focus on enjoying this wonderful party?”

If anyone but Crowley noticed the hint of sarcasm in his voice, they didn’t let it on.

* * *

Crowley didn’t expect Dean to approach him for the rest of the night, apart from the end of it where he would make a show of reluctantly telling him he had to go; but he had barely gotten another drink (thinking that he’d rather have a glass of Craig, but he’d take what he could get) when he said, “You made quite the first impression. Pretty sure everyone ganging up on someone on the first night is something of a record.”

He turned to look at the Bachelor. “I have always made sure I won’t be forgotten”.

Den laughed that mesmerising laugh of his. “Don’t worry, you won’t be.” He winked. “Especially not by me.”

Crowley frowned as Dean walked away.

“Well then, seems like you’re getting a rose” Ketch told him. Something about this man made Crowley’s hackles rise. He wasn’t afraid of him – he never was afraid period; but there was something too polished, too artificial about him. Crowley had always been an open bastard. Granted, it hadn’t brought him many friends, but at least people knew where they stood.

“If you say so” he replied evenly. It was rather clear that Ketch would get a rose; with Crowley gone, the producers needed someone else to step in as the villain, and he seemed happy enough to fill the role, if his James Bond villain accent was to go by.

“You don’t seem sure.”

“It’s reality TV. Anything can happen” he said smoothly and moved on.

Dean was surrounded by a group of women, most of them only stopping trying to get his attention to throw Crowley dirty looks every few minutes. If they really thought that bothered him...

The evening, all in all, was not as bad as he had feared. Yes, Cassie Robinson did indeed soon establish herself as the one Dean could talk to with the most ease, Benny managed to draw him into a conversation about pie, and he and Ketch seemed to have a similar, less-than-ideal upbringing (Crowley could easily have told him that had been the case for him, too, but he had never believed in sympathy points).

He saw Bela enter the room, silent for now, just observing them, and he could have sworn that he once saw someone with red hair in the corner of his eyes, sneaking about. It seemed Charlie was very interested in who Dean was getting on with.

Crowley had slipped out to the terrace for a breath of fresh air.

God what he would have done for a glass of Craig.

What he didn’t know was that Dean had just managed to extract himself from the other candidates again. “Beautiful night, isn’t it?” he asked, stepping up to him.

“Aren’t you supposed to mingle?”

“I’d say so, yeah” he grinned, “But I need a break.”

“Small wonder.”

Dean winced. “Sheryl is a bit... enthusiastic.”

“Sheryl?”

“You are telling me she throws champagne into your face and you forget her name?”

“I don’t particularly pay attention to inconsequential people”

“And here we learn how that whole thing came to happen” Dean said lightly. “Still, at least the champagne is good, right?”

“I prefer Craig.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“I hardly think you need to, do you?”

Dean looked at him. “Man, you have no idea how this is supposed to work.”

“On the contrary, I know exactly how this is supposed to work, which I why I would never have chosen to be here.”

“Way to ruin someone’s ego.”

“If your ego is that easily bruised, I wouldn’t be interested in you anyway.”

Dean blinked. “You are... something else.” Then he studied his suit. “Don’t think the champagne is going to leave a lot of traces, at least.”

“My only worry” he drawled.

Dean chuckled, and it was really not fair that here in the semi-darkness, when he couldn’t even really see him, it had quite the same effect as his full-body laugh. “Glad I could help you with that, then. See you for the ceremony?”

“I thought there wasn’t one tonight.” Part of this whole “give the bachelor more power” routine was that Dean had been allowed to decide that there wouldn’t be a group standing in front of him waiting to be chosen or eliminated; rather, he would go around and quietly distribute roses while apologizing to those who didn’t make the cut.

At least the producers couldn’t make that too melodramatic, not even when Crowley was asked to leave.

“Yes” he replied simply and then Crowley watched Dean walk back into the light and his adoring fans.

Such a pity. If they had met in a bar, he would have known exactly how the evening would end – just like now; but he had no doubt they would have enjoyed it more.

* * *

Of course many made a big show of being nervous when the night drew to a close. Crowley was sitting on the sofa, watching the others – at least figuring out their strategies was somewhat entertaining. Ketch apparently had a whole plan mapped out, Cassie just tried and succeeded to be her best self, Benny was laid back, and most of the others... well; it wasn’t as if Crowley would have to worry about any of that, anyway.

He was busy wondering whether the animosity between Sheryl and Stacy was real or just part of a grander scheme when he suddenly felt someone playing around with his suit jacket.

He looked down to find Dean’s (really, he could sneak up on people as silently as Crowley himself, and wouldn’t that have been fun to...) – wait was he –

Yes. A rose was being pinned to his lapel. “No you don’t have to worry about anyone freaking out about the champagne” Dean told him cheekily and moved on. Crowley watched him go while registering the other candidates staring at him completely aghast.

It was understandable.

Crowley hadn’t just been given a rose.

It had been the first of the evening, and as such, of the entire season.


	4. Chapter 4

Roché – naturally – was besides himself with joy. “Now that’s good TV! The poor shock on your face when Dean pinned the rose on you –“

“I wasn’t shocked –“

“That’s not the point, darling, and don’t worry, we’d make it look like you were even if you hadn’t been.”

He scowled at him, but he seemed utterly oblivious to it. “Alright then, I better skip – see you soon!”

Crowley being chosen had been the only big surprise of the evening. Cassie Robinson had gotten the second rose, as had been expected; Benny had also received one, followed by Arthur Ketch; then Sheryl – Crowley had liked to think at the time that he had been forced to keep her around, then chastised himself for such a sentimental thought – and a few others whose names he hadn’t yet bothered to learn, as undoubtedly the audience wouldn’t you.

He sat in his room. At least the accommodations were adequate. However, now that he was forced to stay at least another day, he would have to arrange certain things.

He took out his laptop. Simmons was competent, but he knew very well she hated him. Well, she could always find another job if she decided she couldn’t stand it anymore, but right now she had to do what she was told, and he quickly informed her that he was taking leave for longer than he had anticipated originally (if he got lucky, none of his employees watched reality TV – at least he hadn’t heard a thing about it, despite the commercial out for quite some now – and if he hadn’t got lucky, they were apparently too scared to say anything, which was alright with him).

He then reluctantly informed Gavin that he had indeed been chosen to advance another round – if that was the right terminology.

And then – he sighed. He figured it was time, now that he seemed to be in the race, to learn more about the general format of the show, Dean Winchester and the other contestants.

Crowley started with Dean; he told himself this was because he was clearly the principal personage of this whole thing, so why bother look at anything else before he did this?

Hm. Dean Winchester, 38, surgeon (Crowley could appreciate any hard worker). Apparently he was supposed to be easy-going and fun-loving, a red-blooded American, but he hadn’t seen much of that tonight. Yes, he had got along with everyone, had quickly smoothed ruffled feathers, had laughed often and loudly; but there had been something else, a hint of a certain quick way of thinking that Crowley had only seldom encountered, even in surgeons and other people working high-profile jobs, in his green eyes.

And of course he had picked him to receive the first rose of the evening, which might well have to do with pity more than anything else, but somehow he didn’t think it had been. Mostly because Dean Winchester didn’t seem the type to do something out of pity that he knew could backfire.

Ah. A younger sibling. They were probably close, seeing how often he mentioned him in interviews.

Crowley was glad that he hadn’t seen his own younger brother Oskar in decades. In fact he had been rather happy that apart from a mother he made a conscious effort to avoid he was the only one of his family left until Gavin had showed up on his doorstep and refused to be sent away.

A knock on his door. Well, he had just finished reading everything interesting about Dean Winchester anyway (and might have lingered on the videos a bit longer than had been necessary).

It was Sheryl, looking contrite. “I wanted to apologize, Crowley.”

No she didn’t. Crowley knew well enough when people tried to manipulate him, and this was one of those times. He would have to be more careful – he had dismissed her too easily. She was more intelligent than she had let on.

“I assure you, there is no reason for it. You were under understandable emotional strain at the time, and it seems that it got the better of you for a second.”

There was a look of disappointment in her eyes. She had probably assumed that he would be angry and that she could use that to blemish his good name – as if he had a good name to begin with. “Oh well, then I’ll leave you to it. Good night.”

“Good night Sheryl” he said brightly. Whether she won or not, he thought as he watched her walk away – and part of her knew that she wouldn’t, and that she wasn’t here to win, anyway – she had a career in reality TV before her. She was made for this kind of entertainment.

From other people, this would have been an insult. From Crowley, it was a compliment. There was something to be said for people knowing where they belonged.

Even if her second attempt to get rid of him in twenty-four hours had backfired as badly as they first one.

After all, he now no longer believed that she was just one naive young thing.

* * *

There was little information about the other contestants. The one who puzzled Crowley most was Ketch. Both Cassie and Bennie would fit well with Dean, both with his public persona as (probably) his private one; Crowley himself was of course an outlier and would never have been here but for Gavin and Roché’s hope he would make good television; but Ketch –

He still had a bad feeling about him, and he had learned to trust his feelings.

He _did_ come from the UK – if his ridiculous accent hadn’t been enough of a hint, nothing would – but as to where he was from exactly, or what he did for a living...

Well, Crowley would just have to watch and learn. Or perhaps not. He might have been very handsome indeed, but he was hardly dating material for the Bachelor. He might be gone in a few days.

After he had learned all there was to be about the show’s format, he felt rather glad that he would most likely pack his bags soon.

Good God, was that mini golf they were playing on one of their “group dates”? Apart from the facts that any group dates Crowley had ever been on had involved considerable less clothes, he was not about to make a fool of himself just so Dean Winchester would think better of him.

In fact, if Dean would like people to make fools of himself, he would have completely misread him.

He was starting to wonder why Dean was here in the first place. He just didn’t seem the type.

Now the one-on-one dates... He had no problems with that. He hadn’t had a problem with that thought since he had first laid eyes on him, if he was being honest.

Then  again, when was he ever honest? It just wasn’t his forte.

Dear God, hometown visits? He suddenly had a vision of Gavin, Fiona and dear God, his mother sitting down with Dean. Yes, he was definitely glad he was about to be eliminated.

Then again, he had thought so before...

He decided he should try and get some rest. God alone knew what awaited him.

* * *

“Well, look at that. You’re still here?” Charlie smirked.

“I thought you would be aware of that, considering your strange venture into the mansion last night...”

Her smirk dropped and Crowley reminded himself to play nice. He had got along well with Benny, and having Charlie on his side would be another plus.

“Alright, alright. Look, I’ll explain if you don’t tell anyone, okay?” her voice dropped. “I’m not really a makeup artist. Also, I’m one of Dean’s best friends.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And what are you then?”

“Oh, IT mostly. I have always been good with computers.”

“So that’s how you could convince everyone that you were a makeup artist.”

“A friend showed me the ropes. It’s not difficult, really – for this kind of show. I couldn’t do, say, the fashion week in Paris, but here basically everyone has to look the same.”

“So you’re here to supervise? Or to spy on us?”

She chuckled. “Dean used almost the same words when he came here and saw me. You should have seen it – he was so shocked he almost gave us away. But then he caught himself – Dean’s nothing if not smart.”

“So you didn’t even tell him?” Crowley had to admit to himself (reluctantly, of course) that he was impressed. It had taken some cunning of her to put her plan into motion.

“Oh no he would probably have advised me against it.”

Oh yes, she had definitely impressed him.

“Plus” she continued, even more quietly, “I just wanted to look after him – make sure everything goes smoothly, you know? Dean means a lot to me. When we met – he pulled me out of a few scrapes, that’s what I mean to say. And when Sam came up with the idea – well, me and Cas decided he should have someone on his side in the house, and Cas, God bless him, can barely deceive his five-year-old niece when he tries to tell her it’s still too cold for ice cream.”

“Cas?”

“Dean’s other – oh no, mister, you’re not getting any more information out of me!”

“Then why tell me in the first place?”

“Do you really think you’re the only one I dropped hints to? I wanted to see if some of you would figure it out. And here you are.”

This time, it was she who raised an eyebrow. Yes, Charlie was a force to be reckoned with.

And if Dean had such friends, what sort of man was he?

Certainly one Crowley wouldn’t mind seeing again.

“Now let’s see something casual for breakfast –“

He stared at her in horror.

What followed could at best be described as a friendly argument, but thankfully he won.

“Do you always wear suits?” one young man in his late twenties asked when Crowley arrived at the table. He couldn’t recall his name.

“I don’t see the point of not looking my best”.

“I agree” Ketch said smoothly. He too was dressed in a suit, although Crowley couldn’t help but think that whoever dressed him clearly thought less of Ketch than Charlie did of him; that tie was decidedly tacky.

Crowley eyed the empty seat next to him for a moment, then sat down next to Benny. He would rather have a conflict free breakfast. There would be enough cat fights in the hours to come.

At exactly ten am, Dean entered the dining room, grinning. “Hello ladies and gentlemen!”

Crowley believed that his eyes lingered on him for a second, then mentally shook himself. Why was he acting like any of the usual young women on shows like this? What was Dean Winchester doing to him?

“And, everyone ready for the group activities today?”

“Can’t wait” he drawled. He’d decided there was no reason to act any different than he usually would; if he did, Charlie would probably tell Dean the truth – after all, she was loyal to him, not to Crowley – and anyway, at least he could have some fun this way.

Dean grinned. “Thought so, Crowley.”

“It’s true” Sheryl piped up, determination glinting in her eyes. “We’re all looking forward to spending time with you –“

“May I ask what the day entails before I say the same?” Crowley interrupted her. “After all, who say I’d enjoy some things just because –“

“Oh, you will. We’re going swimming”. Dean grinned. “Just the right thing for our suit wearers here.”

“You haven’t seen me in swim trunks” Ketch said.

“I could say the same” Dean shot back, but he wasn’t looking at Ketch.

This time, he definitely looked straight at Crowley before he let his eyes wander across the table. “And in case you’re wondering, this is an equal opportunity. You get to see me in swum gear, too.” He winked at Cassie and Benny; clearly he had decided to distribute his attentions equally for now. A clever move.

Dean Winchester in the water? Now that was something Crowley was looking forward to.


	5. Chapter 5

“Wow, you’re in really good shape for –“

“If I start complaining, are you going to throw champagne at me too?”

“I was going to say, for a person with such a distinguished and long career” Charlie saved herself. Barely. “Anyway, Dean has always appreciated someone taking care of themselves”.

“I would expect so, from a doctor.”

“Do you have to always react that way?”

“Yes.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky Dean has such a great sense of humour.”

“If you say so.”

For some reason, he reflected as he walked down to the beach in his bathing gear, Charlie seemed to like him. It didn’t make sense – people tended _not_ to like him – and yet –

Well, Dean didn’t seem to have a problem with him, either. Really, he had to be careful. Ever since Gavin had showed up, that had happened more and more often. He couldn’t get popular. That would ruin his image.

He stumbled across the young man whose name he still didn’t know, looking decidedly unhappy. Throwing a glance at the beach, Crowley could understand why. True, he didn’t remember even having felt young and insecure and sensitive – but he could easily imagine what he must feel upon seeing all the scantily clad people on the beach. “Well, it seems like Dean ordered an all you can eat buffet.”

“Crowley!” But he was smiling and Crowley was feeling strangely satisfied that he’d made him feel better.

Dear God, what was Dean Winchester _doing_ to him?

 He determinedly walked down to the beach, not feeling the least bit self-conscious. He knew he looked good, and if Dean couldn’t appreciate that, it would be his problem.

He almost rolled his eyes when he saw Ketch. That man clearly spent way too much time in the gym. Crowley himself had never liked men who looked too artificial.

The women were all rather attractive, he would admit that. Plus, he’d always liked the sea.

And then Dean showed up and Crowley decided once again that sometimes, life was simply unfair.

He looked gorgeous. And if the other contestants’ gazes were anything to go by – Ketch was basically undressing him with his eyes – he wasn’t the only one who thought so.

“Well then, on to the yacht!” Dean beamed. Clearly this was an activity he’d had some say in, since he seemed genuinely excited. Crowley figured that he probably didn’t have much free time, being a successful surgeon.

Sheryl immediately hung onto Dean’s arm; he gently extracted himself and explained that “There is enough Winchester here for everyone”.

And so they ended all up in a group, Crowley wondering if that was what Roché had had in mind. After all, the more people, the more needless drama that could be created.

“There she is” Dean said and Crowley wondered why every means of transportation had to be female when used by a man. “She’s nothing against my baby of course, but still...”

Crowley opened his mouth to ask since he wondered if Dean did in fact own a yacht but was interrupted by Cassie saying, “Baby?”

At least, eh reflected, one of them apart from himself actually listened to Dean. That was something.

Although he couldn’t understand why it was important to him. It was not like he would actually win this.

Even if he didn’t turn into the villain of this season – unlikely, but both Sheryl and Ketch seemed ready to take the part – he had never looked for a relationship, and certainly not one of those “forever” types the show seemed to promote for some reason even if only one pair who had ever found themselves were still together.

“My car” Dean beamed. “A ‘67 Impala”.

“I always vastly preferred them to the ‘65 series” he said. “They were definitely much more elegant – and more fun to drive.”

Dean looked at him, clearly surprised. “You think so too? It’s basically the one good thing my old man left me.”

Now was probably the time to play for sympathy by making an allusion to his mother, but Crowley wasn’t the type to do so – it would bring him on a level with Ketch, and that was hardly a nice thought – therefore he simply grimaced.

Dean nodded at him. “I feel you, man.”

Somehow, something had just passed between them; some form of unspoken agreement. This had never happened to Crowley before on a personal level. It was almost disconcerting. Or it would have been if it hadn’t been so interesting.

“So who’s driving, Cher?” Benny asked, looking... amused?

Crowley wondered whether Charlie was around somewhere too, watching ever interaction with hawk eyes while Dean smiled at Benny. “Me, of course! You think I would pass up this opportunity?”

So he probably didn’t have a yacht of his own then, Crowley decided.

* * *

The group date was not nearly as awful as he had feared, although it probably at the same time wasn’t as dramatic as Roché would have wanted. Dean seemed to want their first one to jsut be them “hanging out”; and in fact, Crowley was in a rather interesting discussion about the current market with the young man whose name he still didn’t remember (as it turned out, he had a degree in business management) while Dean and some of the girls were out on the deck, contemplating a swim.

“You know I don’t think this is the way to Dean’s heart... I mean ignoring him” Benny said cheerfully, poking his head inside. “Could you please come out? I feel seriously out-womaned here!”

Crowley sighed. He supposed they would not be so lucky to simply keep in the background. That would make the producers decidedly unhappy, and then where would they be? They could put their foot down and force them to play mini golf after all.

And so they went outside, where currently Cassie and Dean were swimming, much to the envy of some of the others, it seemed. Crowley himself had never seen why doing sports with someone else would be fun – and they were clearly actually swimming, not just playing around in the water like the contestants and bachelors usually did.

Then, Dean seemed to be diving.

“They’re really good” Sheryl said.

“Dean probably has to keep fit” Benny said. “After all, he has to operate several times a week.”

Sheryl looked at him as if that information was new, although Crowley didn’t see how or why.

Even though Dean hadn’t come up for air again, he wasn’t worried – after all, Cassie was still swimming around looking perfectly happy.

“I don’t know about you” Ketch boasted, “But I’m going into the water.”

What kind of answer did he expect? _Try not to drown?_ Since Crowley didn’t like him much, that was something he was certainly not going to hear from him.

When no one reacted he huffed and jumped into the water.

Crowley registered without surprise or envy that he could swim as well as Dean.

Dean still hadn’t come up, and later he would blame himself studying the water as if he expected him to reappear any time, even though he had no reason to.

As it happened, ten first sign that something was wrong was a giggle of Sheryl’s, and that was too common an occurrence (he could tell from his experiences at breakfast) to pay that much attention-

And then someone shoved him from behind. His first instinct was to turn around and, seeing as he grabbed his attacker at the same time, this led to them both falling into the ocean.

He had believed that one of the others had either tried to be funny or get revenge for a perceived slight, but when he came up, it was Dean who was coughing next to him. “Dude, you’re faster than I expected.”

“Don’t do that” he snapped, honestly annoyed.

Dean gave him a boyish grin (no, he would not be placated. He refused). “Come on, it was fun.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Was too.”

“Was not.”

“Yes it was.”

“No it wasn’t.”

It was then that Crowley realized he had crowded Dean against the yacht and that they were almost pressed against one another.

This was decidedly _not_ swimming.

Dean swallowed and – no, he hadn’t glanced at his lips. Crowley must have been imagining things. “So I’m not supposed to prank you again?”

“No.”

“What if I do regardless?”

“You’ll have to bear the consequences.”

Another grin, a more wolfish one this time. “I can’t wait.”

Crowley stared at him. Who was this man?

“Crowley, I am sure Dean meant no harm –“ Cassie had arrived to mediate, sounding friendly and calming and when they turned to face her she immediately backed away. “Oh, sorry, I thought –“

She never finished her sentence since Dean immediately announced “Cassie, you owe me a race.”

Crowley had no idea what had just happened, and that was definitely a feeling he didn’t like.

That afternoon, Cassie got the first one-on-one date rose. No one was surprised.

Although Crowley was careful not to examine his emotions too closely. Otherwise he might have found something a little too close to disappointment for his liking.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean and Cassie’s date took place the very next day. They went immediately after breakfast, leaving the other contestants to talk badly about Cassie behind their back, as Crowley understood was the tradition.

He decided to ignore all of that for the moment and instead withdraw into the library that he was rather sure 50% of the occupants of the mansion (either sex) had no idea existed. He’d seen a nice Vonnegut edition, and he had never been one to ignore such simply pleasures when they were presented to him.

The peaceful experience – one of the few he’d had since Dean had decided to throw a wrench into the works of his plan – lasted half an hour, and then Stacy stormed into the library. Originally one of those who had confronted him and backed Sheryl, she had improved considerably, and in fact seemed to be rather sorry for how they had treated him then; he’d come to the conclusion that she was rather nice, or at least as nice as anyone who wanted to be on a reality dating show could be. “Crowley!”

“Yes?”

She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, it’s just – would you have a drink with us? I know how this is going to sound, but we really need an adult in the room. Apart from Benny, that is, he can’t control everyone, and Cassie isn’t back from her date yet.”

He ignored the fact that she seemed eager to make him the “dad” of the group – at least she was smart enough to know who to turn to and he carefully marked the page in _Sirens of Titan_ as he got up.

“Anything I should know?” he asked as they walked to the outdoor pool.

Rose sighed. “Not really. Just the usual – pretty much everyone and their mother has been talking bad about Cassie, and I do like her – I don’t see the point. Also, I think Sheryl’s had enough to drink, and I don’t want her to do anything she’ll regret.”

Yes. Definitely nicer than she had let on.  “I believe it’s mostly to generate drama and make more viewers tune in.”

“You are probably right. But I just couldn’t take it anymore, and at least they respect you.”

He rolled his eyes. As if anyone respected anyone in this mansion.

“Fine, they’re a little scared of you.” She smiled slyly. “Dean’s little stunt on the boat yesterday certainly left a few people very confused.”

“He wanted to prank me.”

“And he didn’t try any of this on us.”

He could have pointed out that he hardly thought that any of them would have been fast or strong enough to drag Dean into the water with them, but that was most certainly not what she had in mind, and he didn’t want to ask since they were now coming close enough for them to hear the fight going on.

Dear God, and people watched this for entertainment value? What could possibly be entertaining about this?

“And when they left, did you see how she rubbed all over him?” Oh God, Stacy had been right; they had definitely allowed Sheryl to drink too much.

“She knows what she has. There is no shame in that.” _Ah, Ketch, insults veiled as compliments? How quaint._

“Ah, the prodigal son returns” he drawled, turning around and seeing Crowley. “Where were you hiding?”

“I do have my hobbies, and they certainly don’t involve sitting around and gossiping” he shot back.

Benny looked at him with something like relief on his face. “Crowley, a drink?”

“While I’m here...”

It was no surprise to him that a chef also knew how to mix a good drink. As Benny passed him his, he said, “You should perhaps no longer hand out drinks to Sheryl” without moving his lips.

“Don’t you think I know that?” he replied the same way (Crowley was almost impressed). “It’s Ketch and a few of the others. I couldn’t keep her from drinking. I tried.”

And had probably been accused of being a mother hen or something similar for it, if the tone of his voice was anything to go by. Well, Crowley was not one to condone such behaviour – under the circumstances. He couldn’t count the deals he’d made sure of while some of his business partners were rather inebriated or other wisely occupied, but this was a reality TV show, not something to be taken seriously, and quite frankly, the conscience he usually pretended he didn’t have was starting to make itself known.

Taking advantage of men who should have known better was one thing. But Sheryl was still rather young, she didn’t exactly have experience when it came to all of this, and they were egging her on. This was not going to go much further, if Crowley had a say.

And he usually had once he decided so.

“Look after that for me, would you?” he asked Benny. He’d rather not have anyone try to drug his drink while he wasn’t looking. He then proceeded to grab Sheryl. “Come on, young lady, time for bed.”

“No” she wailed; Crowley threw a glare at Roché, who was once again sitting in a corner outside of the camera angle, watching the proceedings. He seemed to take the hint, for he suddenly disappeared.

A minute later Charlie showed up.

“Who are you?” Sheryl lulled. “Are you an intruder?”

Good God, whoever had come up with the concept of this show had some things to answer for.

“Oh no” Charlie told her, “And even if I was, I wouldn’t come here for Dean.” She winked at her. Sheryl didn’t understand. But Crowley certainly did.

The camera followed them. He could already hear the voiceover in his head.

_After she started to insult Cassie, Sheryl had to be dragged screaming and kicking to bed by a member of the precaution and the oldest contestant..._

“Do you know...”

“Oh yes, I have the room plan memorized” Charlie answered, and he decided that she was definitely a voice to be reckoned with. “Thanks for alerting Balthazar, by the way. He now and then loses sight of the big picture.”

“I didn’t want her to throw up on my suit, that was all.”

“Is there a reason for it?”

“For what?”

“That you want everyone to think the worst of you.”

“It helps when making deals.”

“I imagine” she grunted, temporarily transferring Sheryl completely into his care to unlock her door. He hadn’t considered until now that they had keys to all the rooms ion the mansion – Dean Winchester certainly came into his head too often and made him forget certain things – but he made a note to ensure no one could get into his regardless whether or not they had the means.

He deposited Sheryl on the bed.

“I think it’s best if I take over from here” Charlie said. “I’ve taken care of drunken girlfriends often enough.”

He nodded. “I’ll make sure things don’t get too bad out there.” Why he took responsibility for that, he couldn’t say. Surely it wasn’t some ploy to impress Dean? After all, he wasn’t even here.

“Getting people drunk in the middle of the afternoon. And they say TV doesn’t show us good role models” Charlie muttered to herself and Crowley allowed himself a smile as he left.

He didn’t see the glance Charlie bestowed on him, nor was he aware that as soon as she had made sure Sheryl was comfortable, she sent a text.

* * *

“Here. Not tampered with, I guarantee it” Benny told him as he passed him his glass once more.

“Scared of more pranks, Crowley?” Ketch asked calmly.

He shrugged. “Who knows what could happen.”

“Oh yes, like you falling into the water again” the young man whose name still eluded him said, grinning; however, there was nothing in his demeanour to indicate he wanted to make fun of him, so he let it go.

“I am sure it was quite the sight.”

“Especially when you wrestled with Dean afterwards” another woman remarked (at this stage Crowley was contemplating the possibility that now and then they simply threw random extras in the scene to make it more dramatic).

“He shouldn’t have attacked me from behind. I am always on my guard.”

“I have noticed” Ketch drawled.

Yes, Crowley was glad he had given Benny his drink to take care of.

Still, he was careful with how much he had, and he was soon rewarded for his caution when Roché stormed in and told them it was time for interviews. Thankfully, Crowley was one of the first so he could get it over with.

“What do you think of Dean so far?”

He’d rather not have answered such a childish question – he barely knew the man – but that was beside the point, as he was well aware. “He chose to go on this show, which in itself speaks volumes. He’s a successful surgeon who has yet to find a life partner despite that fact. And he threw me into the water when he hadn’t even made sure I was a good enough swimmer to stay afloat.” After he had clearly annoyed Roché enough – his face had slowly grown redder behind the cameras – he added a dash of truth.

“He is still more pleasant than most of the population.”

“Could you see yourself falling in love with him?”

Oh Dear God, seriously? He was glad he had never watched this show. He would have smashed his flat screen, and it had been expensive. “No comment.”

“Come on Crowley.”

“No. Why should I answer this question? So you can undercut it with sad music when I’m told to leave?”

“You don’t think you’ll win?”

“I think it is highly unlikely the format of this show would allow Dean to pick me, even if he wanted to.”

“Are you saying we are homo –“

“I am saying Dean and I hardly look like the hip young couple together this network loves to promote.” Roché was growing red again and Crowley loved it.

They switched tactics. “What did you think of the scene at the pool today?”

“I think contestants shouldn’t be allowed to get drunk before five pm. It’s hardly a nice thing for young people to see and emulate, is it?” he asked with a benign smile.

“You had a drink too.”

“I said _get drunk_ , not _have drinks_ ” he reminded her.

“Is that why you decided to interfere?”

“I didn’t see a point in Sheryl making a spectacle of herself if you want to know the truth.”

They let him go soon after that.

He wasn’t interested in how the interviews of the others had gone, and he didn’t ask.

Soon after they were done, Cassie came back, of course showing of another rose. Dean, Crowley thought, looked rather a bit tired than like a man happily falling in love, but what did he know about that kind of business?


	7. Chapter 7

Dinner had been tense; no one had been keen to let Dean know what exactly had transpired while he had been gone, and quite frankly, Crowley was glad to be able to steal back to the library afterwards for a quiet evening of reading.

The last thing he had expected to see was the bachelor himself, reading in the book he’d left behind.

He raised his head when he walked in. “Didn’t know anyone was aware of this place except for me.”

“I assume Charlie is.” There was every reason to think she had told Dean Crowley knew, so there was no purpose in lying.

“You’d be right about that. I left your bookmark in – I assume it’s yours?”

Yes.”

“Should have known” he chuckled, standing up and closing the book. “I heard what you did for Sheryl today. That was nice.”

He’d hardly ever heard those words before and he didn’t quite know how to react. “I didn’t want her to make a fool of herself. It was embarrassing enough to watch.”

Dean cringed. “I can imagine. Still – and she threw her drink at you on your first night here, too.”

He shrugged. “I have never been a resentful man.”

Dean looked at him, blinked, and then laughed. “Oh God I really needed that. Thank you.”

“What makes you think I am joking?”

“Please. You’re a business consultant. Having grudges is just common sense in your profession.”

“And you can’t afford them in yours.”

“That’s right.”

They looked at one another in silence. Crowley had no idea how this was supposed to work. Certainly this wasn’t part of the usual format of the show – although naturally there had to be interactions off camera; but still...

Dean cleared his throat. “And I wanted to apologize. For, you know, throwing you into the water yesterday.”

“It was quite refreshing.”

“You didn’t seem to feel so at the time.”

“I told you. I don’t hold grudges.”

Dean laughed again. “Right. Well, here – I don’t want to keep you from reading.”

He pressed _Sirens of Titan_ into his hands. Their fingers touched for a few seconds, then Dean was gone.

Crowley was left to wonder about what had just happened. He strongly suspected that, if any of the other contestants had lived through this, they would have called it a moment.

He preferred to call it coincidence. It made things easier.

* * *

On the next day, another group date was scheduled – apparently Dean would choose someone to go on another date with based on who drew the prettiest picture.

At least by now he understood why he felt at such an utter loss in this environment. It was one thing to have opponents, or to become involved in intrigues; but this... those childish fights were both below his intellect as well as his dignity, especially because there was barely anything to be gained from it. Well... He shot a glance at Dean, who was painting by himself a little way away from them so he couldn’t see their endeavours, his tongue poking out between his teeth (he refused to call the picture adorable, since he had never found anything adorable in his life). Still, Dean wasn’t just a prize to be won and annoyed who thought a show with this track record would bring them a happy ending was too naive to realize this was just TV anyway.

Sheryl was drawing as if her life depended on it. Crowley thought about refusing the task altogether, but then he remembered something.

* * *

“What in God’s name is that?” Sheryl shrieked as the pictures were displayed next to each other.

Crowley shrugged. “I thought you’d be able to recognize a painting.”

“Yes, I –“ She took a deep breath, apparently trying to be nicer to him since he had carried her to her room. “I mean it’s... unusual.”

“That it is” he agreed.

She obviously decided not to say anything and instead chose to look at Ketch’s picture. “Is that a motel room?”

“Oh yes. I told you Dean and I had similar upbringings. Brings back memories.”

From the hints Crowley had gotten, he didn’t think that Dean would enjoy those memories very much... and that Ketch was aware of that. Small wonder he’d never liked him. The guy was a bastard, and not the fun kind.

The others had mostly stuck to flowers and animals, and the young man (Brent, he’d finally learned) had a surprisingly good eye for perspectives.

Once they were all done, Bela announced that Dean would now pick a winner and that they were not allowed to tell him whose picture was whose.

Not that Crowley doubted he wouldn’t realize who painted the scene straight out of Vonnegut, but he played ignorant, of course.

And so Dean was called back in – he’d been sent out so the display could be arranged – and happily told them “Wow, I can’t wait! Me and Sammy used to paint all the time when we were kids –“ his smile flattered as he saw Ketch’s scene and Crowley saw him smirking to himself from the corner of his eyes and was surprised at his own reaction, which included a wish that he could throw him into the pool and keep his head dwen until he stopped trashing.

If he wasn’t careful, Dean Winchester might actually make him care about someone else.

“Well, these are all –“ Suddenly Dean stood still and his mouth hung slightly open. “Is that Unk strangling Stevenson?”

They said nothing.

He shook his head. “Of course. You’re not allowed to – but still – guys, that’s awesome!”

Benny looked at Crowley and suppressed a snigger. His own picture, a pie, was commented on lightly as “Oh no who could possibly have drawn that...”

When Dean had inspected all of them, he put his hands to his sides and declared, “Alright, those are all awesome, but sorry Benny, Vonnegut trumps pie.”

“I hadn’t expected anything different.”

“Good then. So, who’s my date?”

He did a decent job of pretending that he had no idea. Then again, he probably had to do with enough people in his job that he’d learned to act well.

“That would be me” Crowley said smoothly.

“For some reason I am not as surprised as I probably should be...” Dean stated, his eyes sparkling. He was clearly happy with how things had played out as well; to say that was a surprise to Crowley would have been an understatement, but he would certainly not show it. “Seems I get my second one-on-one with Mr. _You won’t get me out of this suit_.”

“And here I distinctly recall you throwing me into the sea without me wearing one.”

“We were swimming, that’s something different.”

“I guess you’ll have to try especially hard to get me out of it, then.”

One of the women behind him gasped, but Dean simply raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Oh yes.”

“We’ll see.”

Later that day, they were sitting at the pool, regrettably being filmed again. Benny approached him, carrying drinks. “Care for one?”

He trusted Benny – he certainly hadn’t put anything in there; so he accepted.

“Congrats on winning the date” he said. “I almost believed Dean had no idea it was your picture. Almost.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

Benny snorted. “Right. As if he hadn’t been after that outcome anyway.”

“Dean had a good day with Cassie yesterday” he said, raising his voice. The microphones would pick up everything anyway, so she might as well hear now – he’d rather not be caught gossiping about anyway in this tacky mansion.

Cassie flashed him a smile. “That’s true.”

“Did you kiss him”? Sheryl asked.

“Sorry, I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Did he kiss you, then?” she demanded.

“Did you ever consider a career as a lawyer?” Crowley asked.

She blinked. “Why?”

“Because you simply asked your question in another manner, and I’m afraid it’s still inadmissible.”

Cassie winked art him. “That’s true, Crowley.”

He might not be up to catty fights, but arguments he’d always win.

Sheryl looked rebuffed. Crowley glanced at the cameras and sighed. Roché would probably make sure that his comment looked like the lament of a lovelorn fool who well knew he was out of Dean’s league (not that that was true, but still).

At least he had a date to look forward to for the first time in quite some time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments, they really keep me going!!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date time!!!

They were supposed to start out for their date soon after breakfast, and Crowley was once more entrusted into Charlie’s capable hands.

Even if she seemed to be going a little mad with power. “Alright, I have an idea. Hear me out. It’s going to look great –“

“I am not dressing in anything other than a suit.”

Her shoulders slumped. “But these dark jeans would be perfect for you –“

“The answer is no.”

“Come on!”

“I thought the one on one date was there so we could get to know each other better” he pointed out. “Why should I wear something that I don’t usually put on then?”

“Oh, so now you want to get to know Dean better after all?” she asked coyly. “And here I thought your original plan was to get out of here as soon as possible.”

“My plan had to be modified.”

“And now you have a date with Dean” she smirked. “And I know how and why.”

“Some people should learn to keep their mouth shut.”

She actually punched his shoulder in a display of what he believed was affection – effectually stunning him into silence. No one had ever dared do something like this. “Dean tells me everything. You better get used to this.”

“You mean for when he and Cassie ride off into the sunset?” he asked, rolling his eyes.

“You don’t know that.”

“Their date obviously went well” Crowley pointed out, “The cameras during our group therapy sessions –“ she punched his arm again “stop that, are usually pointed at her, meaning the producers feel they should get as many of her reactions as possible. Given that Dean has been granted an unusual amount of power for this franchise, it seems more than likely that he’s given them a hint.”

“Or they’re trying to give him one. Have you even met Roché?”

“Yes. He was the one who gleefully informed me my application had been approved.”

“Wow, I almost believed you were happy there for a second.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, I am excellent at deceiving others.”

She snorted. “Right. That’s why dean doesn’t know you read Vonnegut and have a son.”

“That information was disclosed in –“

“Again, he tells me everything, and things never go farther than that. I am discreet, you know.”

He found it difficult to imagine someone less discreet than Charlie, but on the other hand, she had not yet given herself away, apart from her confession to him.

They returned to bickering over the jeans, and Crowley one. Small wonder – he was never going to wear anything other than a suit if he could help it.

Everything else reminded him too much of other times in his life... Times that were another reason why someone like Dean Winchester should keep far away from him.

* * *

The problem, Crowley decided when he stepped into the hall and found Dean waiting for him, was that he had never been good at denying himself what he really wanted.

And it was much too easy to want Dean Winchester as he grinned at him. “So they didn’t manage to get you out of the suit?”

“As stated before, you’ll have to try harder to make that happen.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I have the perfect plan.”

For a few moments, Crowley feared they were going sky-diving when they ended up at the airport, but instead they were shown to a small private plan.

Dean settled down in his seat and closed his eyes. “You’re lucky I’ve always wanted to see this place, or I would never have agreed to this.”

“Nervous flyer?” he asked innocently.

“No” Dean pressed out, his eyes screwed shut even though the plan hadn’t even moved yet. “I just love pretending to be mortally terrified for fun and giggles.”

He was clearly very scared, and Crowley was somewhat art a loos what to do. Normally he would either use a situation like this to his advantage – only there was nothing to be gained from it; and it would hardly look good if he were to laugh at Dean, which was not something he wished to do anyway.

So there was this other possibility –

He reached out and took Dean’s hand. “Take a few deep breaths. The plan hasn’t even started yet.”

“But it’s going to”.

“Yes. That’s what planes normally do. And then they go up and land where they are supposed to, unless they crash.”

Dean cracked one eye open and glared at him. “Has anyone ever told you you’re terrible at this?”

“Most people I ever met.”

Dean chuckled and relaxed slightly. Apparently that had been the right thing to do after all. “You’re really a piece of work.”

“Right back at you. Who considers it attractive to broadcast their phobias?”

“Anxiety disorders, old man. That’s what we call them these days.”

“What’s the difference?”

“What do you mean?”

“What difference does it make what you call them?”

“You prefer to be called Crowley and not by your first name.”

He had to concede the point.

They had bickered long enough that neither of them had noticed the plane taking off.

Dean still hadn’t let go of his hand and instead gripped it tighter when he looked out of the window and realized.

It was ridiculous to feel like a teenager on his first date, Crowley decided, especially because he had never felt like one even then. Looking back, he seemed to always have known what he wanted, and how to get it.

Except for that one period of his life he firmly kept a secret.

And yet here he was.

* * *

Dean mostly stayed silent during the short plane ride – it was about an hour long, which meant they hadn’t gone too far – but he also was still holding his hand when they landed. Only then did he release it while taking a deep breath of relief. “Man I am not looking forward to going back.”

“And here I thought you were magically cured.”

He poked him in the chest. “Use those words around me again and I will show you my skills in a decidedly un-doctorly manner.”

“You wouldn’t dare. Not with the cameras around.”

“Don’t underestimate me” Dean said.

“I never make that mistake.”

“Let me guess, there are simply too many people you don’t have to underestimate because you are too wonderful for them anyway.”

“Something like it” Crowley answered, wondering how the producers would decide to cut their banter. Knowing Roché, he would probably try and make it come across as hostile.

Well, if he managed to ignore Dean’s smile.

Another limousine awaited them, of course. He still held by it that his own was much more comfortable. And he would admit that he was rather curious about Dean’s Impala.

“And here I thought you would be the one driving” he drawled, still thinking of the car.

“And cheat on Baby? Never! I am faithful, you know.”

“Hence why you are currently dating twenty people at once.”

Dean blinked and stared at him. “Oh my God, dude.”

“It’s true.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re supposed to say it. What are Bela and Balthazar going to think?”

“Balthazar” Crowley said, turning to the camera “is Balthazar Roché, one of the producers of this wonderful show. He basically invented those heart-warming love stories you love so much.”

Dean laughed. “Did you really just –“

“Nothing wrong with breaking the fourth wall now and then. It makes it seem more real, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, this is against the rules, and he has entirely too much fun with it” Dean told the camera in turn, grinning. “Seems you are right.”

“I usually am.”

Once they had finally settled into the limousine, much to the relief of the camera men, he asked, “Now can I finally know where we are going?”

Dean smiled. “Remember how you won the date?”

“Yes.”

“We’re in Indianapolis.”

“The Kurt Vonnegut Memorial Library?”

“Yes.” Dean bounced up and down in his seat for a moment like a small boy, and it looked entirely too adorable for a grown man. “I always wanted to go. You ever been there?”

“No, but it does sound interesting.” Certainly a far more charming picture than playing mini golf with Dean. Although, when it came to him, Crowley wouldn’t even mind that much –

He blinked. Good God, if he wasn’t careful, he might actually be in danger.

How... exhilarating.

“Really, I should have made the drive years ago, but I’ve always worked long hours.”

“Me too.”

“And then your concerned brother stands in front of you and starts complaining about how you’re a “lonely workaholic” who needs to “get out more”.”

“It’s my son in my case.”

“Ah yes, the one who applied for you to be here in the first place.”

 “Yes. He decided to run my life for me for a while, apparently. Maybe he’s making up for lost time. I didn’t know he existed until about six months ago and then he suddenly stood on my doorstep.”

Dean winced. “Sounds complicated.”

Normally Crowley disregarded such expressions of pity – they were after all mostly lies; but somehow Dean seemed to mean it. “It is. And like you said, he’s entirely of the opinion that I should get out more, which is why he forced me to do this.”

“Right” Dean laughed, “You’re not here of your own free will, I will try and remember it.”

“I could leave the car anytime.”

“Somehow I don’t see you doing a barrel roll out of a moving vehicle.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” It was even true.

“You must have had an interesting life.”

“I still do.”

“Can’t wait to hear more about it” Dean beamed, and again he seemed to actually mean it.

Thank God Crowley had realized in time what he was getting into. Now that he was on his guard, he’d be careful not to let himself be caught up and develop, God forbid, feelings for Dean Winchester. He’d always made sure not to do something so stupid during the entirety of his adult life, and it had always done him good.

* * *

 

As it turned out, Dean was very well-versed when it came to Vonnegut’s writings, and the exhibition made him skip around as if his birthday had come early. Crowley watched with a strange mixture of amusement and fondness that should maybe have worried him more it did. “Are you alright?” he asked when Dean seemed to be hyperventilating over a typewriter.

“ _Slaughterhouse-five_ was written on this! _Slaughterhouse-Five_!”

“I have always preferred _Cat’s Cradle_.”

Dean clutched his chest.” You _didn’t_ just say that.”

“Cat’s Cradle is superior because –“

“I am going to stop you right there because I cannot be persuaded.”

“How about we agree that _Timequake_ has a better premise than execution?”

Dean immediately agreed. “If you ask me, i would have preferred to read that first draft he seems to have scraped.”

“I always wondered about that too.”

“Imagine if that suddenly showed up on an auction at Christie’s.”

“I’d check the provenance.”

“Of course you would, Crowley, of course you would.”

* * *

He really couldn’t imagine what the producers would eventually make of all of this.

It felt certainly much more like a friendly outing than a date – mostly because he had never been on a date that did not have a very specific outcome in mind, and that was not an option now.

The most logical explanation was that Dean had decided to send him home, since doing so now would spare him some trouble later, and that he might as well go to visit the Vonnegut museum with someone who could actually appreciate it.

So, when they arrived back at the mansion (Dean had again clutched at his hand the whole flight) Crowley was resigned to packing his bags. Granted, returning home didn’t sound as tempting as it had before he’d come to know Dean, but that was only a minor inconvenience –

Dean smiled and then another rose was pinned to his suit. “You know, I am starting to think you are onto something with never wearing anything else.”

In the next moment, he had skipped back into the house and Crowley was left staring at the rose.

Well then.


	9. Chapter 9

To say the others were surprised when Crowley showed up at dinner would have been an understatement.

No – not all of them; he quickly realized that Cassie, Benny and Ketch weren’t that astonished, and neither was Sheryl, for that matter.

And yet most of them definitely hadn’t expected him to still be around.

He didn’t brandish his rose like it was some sort of shield – it sat on his bedside table, with the first one Dean had bestowed on him, for a lack of ideas what else he was supposed to do with them.

“So” Sheryl eventually asked, “How did it go?”

Dean wasn’t eating with them; he’d been carted off to do an interview and was probably getting distracted by talking about Vonnegut.

“It was perfectly satisfactory” he replied smoothly.

Half of the others rolled their eyes while Benny was clearly trying to hold back his laughter.

“Oh come on! There has to be more to it than that! Where did you go, for example?”

He figured there was no harm in telling them.

“Vonnegut?” Sheryl asked. “I think I had to read one of his books in high school. Never wanted to pick him up again after that.”

Crowley would never fail to be amazed at how many teachers seemed to be able to put their students off reading altogether. “Dean likes him.”

“Is that why you drew a scene from _Sirens of Titan_ when we had to compete for the date?” Ketch asked smoothly and Crowley had to give him at least some credit. He wasn’t stupid.

“Just a lucky coincidence, it seems. I had been re-reading the book.”

Ketch clearly didn’t believe him – not that Crowley cared. Dean was not dumb enough to pick Ketch and –

Wait, was he worried that Dean would end up _unhappy_? Did he – did he care –

“It’s nice he took you to a museum” Cassie chimed in, apparently having picked up on the tension between him and Ketch. “I can count the number of times a guy accompanied me to one on one hand.”

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right man” Crowley replied evenly.

“I guess not.”

“That’s why we’re here!” Sheryl said brightly. Sometimes, she really overdid it with her demeanour.

Crowley caught Rose’s eyes; if anything, she seemed embarrassed.

 It might have been better for all involved that Dean walked in at that very moment. “Man, I am hungry – Crowley, they are ready for you, but they’ll wait if you –“

“It’s quite alright; I am finished.”

And he stood up, more than glad to leave the gossip behind.

* * *

“It’s like pulling teeth” Bela declared after several minutes of Crowley carefully evading her questions. He did his best to look innocent. “Don’t give me that look mister, you know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Usually” he agreed.

“Now, do you want to talk about –“

“No I don’t. You want to ask questions, and you want me to answer them, but that’s hardly the same as an open conversation where both parties are –“

“Do. You. Like. Dean?”

“In what regard?”

“This is not how this works” she announced, “And just so you know, your little breaking the fourth wall gag had Balthazar in fits.”

“And yet you mention it now which means it will most likely end up in the show.”

Bela shot him a glare that didn’t quite hide the fact that she was impressed, loathe as she probably was to admit it. “What ends up in the cut and what doesn’t depends on our goodwill, you know.”

“Oh no, what am I ever going to do?”

“Come on, you have to give us something!”

“Why? I was under the impression that the only one I had to impress was Dean.”

The interview ended soon after that.

* * *

Crowley decided to get some fresh air and was surprised to find Dean and a few of the others next to the pool, talking.

If he hadn’t known any better, he would have thought Dean looked – no, he _did_ know better, and Dean was exasperated.

He had probably hoped for some alone time as well, yet here he was with Ketch and Sheryl.  

Hardly a combination that would ensure anyone was relaxing.

“Ah, Crowley” he said, sounding relieved (he was definitely not used to someone reacting like that to his presence). “Interview go okay?”

“I am rather sure Bela is annoyed with me.”

Dean grinned. “Have you been a bad boy, then?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I don’t think it helps to treat Miss Talbot that way” Ketch said smoothly, obviously trying to hide the fact that he was feeling left out. Good God, was he starting to grow a beard? As if he didn’t come off as desperate enough.

Dean waved his hands dismissively. “Come on, Bela can take it as long as you aren’t a downright asshole to her, and I think we all know Crowley is not that.”

He was starting to think Dean Winchester had too good an opinion of him. It was almost refreshing; mostly people tended to believe he was worse than he let on. Mostly because it was true.

“Yeah, he’s not” Sheryl confirmed, shooting him a grateful look. As always when someone was thankful towards him, he didn’t quite know how to react. It had happened so seldom.

“Well, not that this isn’t charming, but I feel rather tired” Dean said, standing up. “I’ll have an early night.”

To Crowley’s surprise, he squeezed his forearm as he passed him.

“Seems like our date was a success” Ketch said smoothly.

Crowley didn’t deem it worthy of an answer.

* * *

The surprise at Crowley still being there after his one-on-one date the others had felt was nothing against his own upon seeing the roses on his bedside table when he retired for the night and realizing that, as improbable, as impossible that a relationship born out of a TV would be successful, he actually wanted to win.

Really, it was utterly ridiculous. Even if he had been looking for a relationship, Dean Winchester, all-American heroic surgeon who was clearly a people person and liked by everyone would hardly have stricken him as the type of man he could spend the rest if his life with.

And yet here he was.

How _irritating_.

Because if there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that the producers would want their perfect couple to find each other at the end of the season, and that Crowley would never be part of that.

* * *

Time passed. Slowly, people got eliminated – Dean always had a gently smile and nice words for them, however.  Crowley was still at the mansion, and, even though Roché kept dropping hints, Dean apparently insisted on keeping him – perhaps just for the drama of it all.

Soon, it was time for Crowley to go a two-on-one date himself, and his opponent, if he chose to see him as such, was Ketch.

On the evening they learned what the next day would entail, Ketch was pretty clear who he thought would win.

Silently, Crowley agreed. He and Dean had not particularly deepened their acquaintance for the simple reason that there had been no opportunity for it. He doubted he really knew the others better than him, anyway. One simply didn’t get to know other people well on television.

But he had eyes, and while he was aware that he was attractive (very attractive, he would say) it was no secret what the producers wanted, and that Ketch looked good next to Dean. And this would give Dean an easy way out to get rid of Crowley before he had to meet the families of the last four contestants.

Still – one more date with Dean; and that was something to look forward to because, despite his attempts to get rid of the feelings he’d someone managed to grow for the younger man, he had had no success.

What was it about Dean Winchester anyway?

But on the other hand, he had never been one to give up easily. And if he could wipe that smile of Ketch’s face, even better.

Plus, he had an asset that no one safe for Dean knew about, and he didn’t seem to have a problem with it.

So consulting Charlie it was.

As it turned out – this time Dean hadn’t been allowed to surprise him, which made him look rather annoyed in the morning, if not less beautiful – they were going to a fair.

Well, then.

He supposed that he might look a bit overdressed of he want in a suit.

And so he made Charlie’s day by announcing, “I’m guessing you’ll see me in jeans after all.”

He was not going to leave the battle field without even trying to win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided I had to stream-line this - otherwise we would end up with a 100k story, my friends.


	10. Chapter 10

He slowly walked down the stairs. Ketch and Dean were sitting outside, at the pool. Crowley was starting to think that it wasn’t just the producers’ wishes to make the show look as picturesque as possible; no, Dean apparently liked to relax outdoors. He stored the information away for later.

Ketch was of course already sucking up to him, and he was wearing his usual suits with another tacky tie. Why he constantly got called out for it and Ketch simply had the right to do this evaded Crowley; but anyway, this time he was the one surprising Dean instead of being carted off to a plane ride with a terrified, if gorgeous, man.

“And then my father taught me to shoot –“ Ketch was saying. Idiot, Crowley thought, as he saw Dean’s stiff shoulders. He clearly didn’t want to hear or talk about such things.

He could sympathize. And, if his plan worked, he’d eventually have to find a way to reconcile introducing Dean to his mother.

_Good God._

Normally, that would have been all the reason he needed to decide it wasn’t worth it, but then Dean turned around with a relieved expression and began, “Crowley! I was wondering if you –“ And then he stopped talking.

Charlie had been right, the dark jeans paired with a dark red t-shirt suited him. If he went by Dean’s expression, he’d have said it suited him very well indeed.

“Well” he eventually settled on, “That’s new.”

“Charlie wouldn’t accept no for an answer” he said smoothly.

Dean shot him a slight smile in response, once more not giving away a thing about Charlie and their friendship.

“A few tours in the gym would help” Ketch said off-handedly. Crowley chose to ignore it; let him appear to be magnanimous for once.

Only Ketch wouldn’t accept that. “I mean, you look like you could lose a few –“

“We don’t all have to look like chiselled Ken dolls now, do we” Dean suddenly snapped, and Crowley decided that he’d had to listen to Ketch’s exploits at the gym for a bit too long.

“I am not saying you need to lose weight” Ketch leered at Dean. “I just thought I could give him a few tips, you know, mano a mano –“

“I keep healthy” Crowley said calmly.

“It shows” Dean grinned. Their eyes met.

Ketch, apparently at a loss as to why Dean would smile so much at Crowley and barely listen patiently to him, eventually cleared his throat. “Boys, are we going or not? I feel left out.”

“Oh poor man” Dean deadpanned, finally looking away from Crowley. “Guess we’ll have to find a way to entertain him.”

And as he stood up, he once more squeezed Crowley’s forearm.

Granted, he didn’t know exactly how Dean’s other dates had gone, but so far, he was the only one he had touched – and certainly the only one Ketch had seen him touch, considering the nasty expression on his face.

As they got into the limousine, Dean made a slight sign with his right hand and Crowley understood he wanted to talk to him in a way the cameras couldn’t pick up.

He was impressed when Dean “accidentally” dropped his phone, giving them both an opportunity to lean down while Ketch was already seated in the car.

“Want to help me teach him a lesson?” Dean asked quietly. “I think a bruise or two would be good for his ego in the long run.”

“Isn’t that against the rules?”

Dean grinned. “That’s why I keep you around. You help me stay on the straight and narrow.”

“Count me in.”

* * *

“And, have you been reading any more Vonnegut?” Dean asked once the car had started.

“Sadly the library isn’t very well stocked.”

“You can say that again. They don’t even have any Austen!”

“I didn’t know you read Jane Austen” Ketch chimed in.

“Don’t worry” Crowley said with the soothing tone of a father calming down their annoyed offspring during a family outing, “I didn’t either.”

To say that Ketch was taken aback when Dean patted his shoulder and said “There’s a lot of things we don’t know about each other yet” then proceeded to wink at Crowley was an understatement. “But there’s nothing like a good book to calm down between surgeries, even if it’s only for a few minutes” he continued.

“Do you work in the E.R?”

“I help out from time to time. Used to be my full-time job but when  I turned thirty-five I decided I might as well take it a bit slower. Plus, you know...” Dean’s expression dropped. “It’s not always easy, especially when it’s small kids.”

Of course it wasn’t. Crowley once again found himself wondering why he was so drawn to such an ostensibly good and friendly man. It made no sense at all.

But then, neither made the thought of pairing up Dean and Ketch, who was even now oblivious to Dean’s comfort at the thought of anyone dying on his table. Crowley would readily and easily admit that he was a bastard who had walked over his fair share of business rivals and destroyed several careers; but at least he was aware of the concept of empathy. Something Ketch seemed never to have heard of.

“It must have taken a lot out of you” he now simpered up to Dean, but it was clear he only wanted to compliment him, and Crowley didn’t think he was the type of man who liked to be thanked for doing his job.

“Yeah, well” Dean said lightly, “At least I know the easiest ways to shut people up in seconds.”

“Is it true that when you stab someone they die faster when you pull the knife out?” Crowley asked while Ketch was still trying to wrap his head around Dean’s answer.

“Yes. The blood flows, and off you go.”

“There you go, kids” Crowley said, turning to the cameras again, “Don’t let anyone tell you you learn nothing from watching TV.”

“You can’t do that!” Ketch protested.

“i regret to inform you we already did” Dean said, winking at the camera.

“But –“

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it” he interrupted him.

Crowley smirked.

He had been prepared to fight, and instead he was having the time of his life.

Nothing but torturing some annoying asshole to pass the time.

Especially if it was done with the help of a gorgeous man.

* * *

The fair war... fine. Certainly not as bad as some others Crowley had been subjected to most of his life, and to his surprise, he had nothing against watching Dean happily devour the food.

It seemed Dean Winchester was the exception to most, if not all, of his rules.

Ketch, meanwhile, increasingly growing more frustrated at the lack of attention Dean bestowed on him – it was now focused on either Crowley, the food, or, on one occasion when he just had to try a piece of corn dog so Dean fed him, both – decided to show his prowess at the shooting stand.

Crowley had to admit he was a very good shot, but there was something about the mechanical way he fixed on the target that showed he was quite frankly too familiar with fire arms.

Not that Crowley didn’t know how to handle them in an emergency, but there was a ruthlessness to Ketch that he didn’t like.

He turned to Dean to make some comment that would sound good on TV when he realized the surgeon had got rid of his latest plate even though he hadn’t finished the food yet and was staring at ketch, looking slightly ill. And it was definitively not the food that had made that expression appear on his face.

Crowley’s own sudden desire to hit Ketch over the head with one of the weapons he was wielding. Instead, he took Dean’s arm and dragged him a few feet away, hissing at the camera man to ensure they’d have some privacy.

Out of sight of both Ketch and the cameras, he suddenly found he had no idea how to start comforting Dean. So he settled with a gruff, “Are you alright?”

Dean blinked, swallowed, nodded. He looked away as he answered, “As fine as I could ever be.”

That was a lie if Crowley had ever heard one. “I don’t believe you.”

“Nice. Good to know.”

“Dean –“  

“It’s pathetic. I can stitch together bullet wounds as good as any other surgeons, hell I have treated so many gunshot victims, and yet when I see and hear something like this –“ his hands were balled into fists. “It was my dad” he pressed out. “After Mum died, he decided we had to grow up strong, and he taught me to shoot when I was barely seven years old. I should have been watching cartoons in my room, not being dragged around at dawn shooting at anything that moved in the woods.”

“I can see why you would have preferred that” Crowley said.

“My old man never did. Do you know he was annoyed that I studied medicine instead of joining the marines? He was actually disappointed that I became a surgeon. What parent is disappointed because of that?”

“My mother once tried to sell me for three pigs” Crowley answered.

“What!?”

“I don’t think the possible buyer really meant it. And I still hold that I was worth five pigs at least.”

And then Dean suddenly laughed again; it wasn’t the carefree laugh he’d heard on that first night, but it didn’t sound painful either, at least. “Look at us. What a pair we make.”

“It’s certainly obvious that our upbringing wasn’t exactly... ideal” he said.

“And yet here we are.”

“On a TV show trying to find love.”

This time, Dean’s laughter was happy and care-free. “I meant our careers.”

“I was perfectly aware of that. I was trying to make you feel better. Seems like I succeeded.”

“And the others tell me you’re not a people person.”

“I do my best.”

Dean nodded. “Let’s see if the Terminator is done with his set, shall we?”

Right before they returned within sight of the cameras or the stand though, he suddenly took his hand and drew him back, kissing his cheek. “Thanks, Crowley.”

Then he swept past him and Crowley was left staring after him. That had to have been the most innocent kiss he had ever received in his life.

And the first one to ever make his heart race.

* * *

To say Ketch was irritated that Dean hadn’t paid attention to him would have been an understatement. Luckily, he was well enough again to easily deflect all his complaints with a few smiles and shrugs of his shoulder.

“You know, if you just wanted to go on a date with Crowley – although I fail to see why you would – I suggest you do just that” Ketch finally snapped.

Dean slapped his forehead in an exaggerated eureka moment. “You don’t say.”

“I still don’t get why you keep him around.”

“Fascinating, I am starting to wonder the same about you!”

“You know what? I quit” Ketch announced, apparently trying to get Dean to react.

And react he did. He looked at him, then raised an eyebrow. “Well? From what I can gather, you’re still here. I thought you were leaving.”

Ketch looked at him, then at Crowley.

He then proceeded to storm off and demand that he be taken back to the mansion to pack.

Dean laughed. “I thought women were supposed to be drama queens!”

“Don’t let Cassie hear that.”

“Are you kidding? I would never say that to any woman’s face.” Dean looked into the camera again. “Remember, boys and girls, women are people too, and they deserve to be treated with respect.”

An assistant – clearly a bit unsure how to proceed – showed up to press a rose into Dean’s hand. “Look at that. Seems like you won because your opponent quit, Crowley. Do you accept this rose?” he asked overdramatically.

“Well if you ask me in this way, how could I possibly say no?” he drawled.

“Might have to reconsider you not wearing a suit as a good thing, I got no lapel to pin it too.”

“Oh no does this mean you’re taking it back?”

“Pretty sure that’s against the rules.”

“Because you obey them so well.”

“Exactly. Now you know my secret.”

Crowley tried to snatch the rose, but Dean simply held it above his head.

He huffed. “That seems rather childish.”

“Well, you have all the time in the world to figure out how – “

Crowley grabbed his shirt and dragged him into a kiss. Two could play at that game.

Dean made a surprised noise, than happily reciprocated.

They only broke apart when the same assistant who had brought Dean the rose clumsily informed them that things were growing too heated for television.

Crowley plucked the rose out of Dean’s hand. “I’d say I have earned this.”

Dean looked at him, still breathing a little heavily. “Oh, you definitely did.”

All in all, his reality TV show experience was shaping up to be a much more positive one than Crowley had expected.


	11. Chapter 11

The rather surprising fact that he had made it into the top four was slightly bested by Ketch being in the middle of staging an “intervention” by the time he and Dean returned.

They were apprised of that by a very excited Bela; whether she was looking forward to the drama or actually approved of Crowley coming this far was anyone’s guess. “Ketch just wants to make sure where everyone stands before they leave.”

Ah. So she _was_ on their side. Crowley distinctly recalled Ketch telling her to call him Arthur, and her not doing that was as good a sign as any.

“Where everyone stands?” Dean huffed. “He was the one who stormed off.”

“And you were the one to make sure he did” she said evenly. “This is off the record, by the way.”

“In that case, I don’t like creepy sociopaths. We both knew who today’s winner would be.”

Crowley managed not to frown, but barely. Surely, even if Dean didn’t like Ketch – and it appeared he never had – he would have made a more compelling fourth contestant, at least from the point of view of the producers?

They had already managed to balance them out – two men and two women, one of them a POC, so there “most inclusive season” was proving to be exactly that. So why –

She sighed. “I told Balthazar it was no use, but he kept going on how good Ketch looked on camera. I told him to focus on the chemistry that just wasn’t there when it came to you and him, but you know –“

“Do I ever” Dean mumbled. “He really makes it seem like this is all for show, hm?” He grinned that boyish grin of his and Bela rolled her eyes.

“You have to admit it’s going pretty well for you so far” she pointed out, “And I think we’ll need this scene later on.”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on. We got Cassie, Benny, Crowley and Sheryl – and Sheryl is that rare individual who actually learned something and grew up while shooting a reality TV show. So it’s likely there won’t be much drama from now on. Sure, we could amp the romance, but that’s not why people watch.”

“You wait until Sam gets involved, there’ll be plenty of drama then.”

“We both know there can never be enough for Balthazar” she said and Crowley was left to wonder if Dean had managed to build a rapport with everyone on set.

It seemed there were even more upsides to his charming personality than he had thought.

Dean sighed. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

Bela grinned wolfishly, then. “Word of advice, boy. Just check your attire first, alright? You look positively dishevelled, and I don’t think Ketch is going to like that.”

“As if I care what he likes” Dean mumbled but obediently went to check.

As for Crowley, Charlie skipped up to him. “You’re with me, mister.” At his protests that he could very well deal with his slightly messy hair on his own, she simply dragged him back to her chair. “I need to hear everything, and we only have five minutes!”

That was his problem with these people – most of them were fundamentally nice; and it was simply not much fun, nor a very good idea, to constantly be a bastard to people who were treating you well.

So he told her.

“And when does the snogging come in?”

“We didn’t snog.”

“Come on, you know I’ve got my eyes and ears everywhere.”

“Then you don’t need me to confirm or deny it.”

“What do they do with you in interviews?”

“Mostly we exchange polite insults until the time is up.”

“Small wonder Dean’s so into you.”

He didn’t quite know what to make of that.

He had to admit that he did look better than before when she was done with him, however.

“There. Now you’re all dolled up for Dean again.”

“That was more for Bela than anything else.”

“Tell yourself that. And now get out there and defend your man.”

Charlie sometimes acted as if he and Dean were the only potential couple in the mansion. He could have been honest with himself and admitted that he had nothing  against the prospect, but at the moment he was preoccupied with whatever Ketch had planned, plus where was the fun in being honest?

* * *

They were sitting – where else – at the pool. At least they had all opted to drink water, thank God; and to their credit, Cassie, Benny and Sheryl all looked slightly embarrassed.

Dean, meanwhile, appeared calm and collected, but then he was used to handling emergencies.

“Ah Crowley” Ketch said. “So you could be bothered to join us after all?”

“I am afraid I fell into the clutched of my makeup artist.”

“I am sure you needed it.”

“Nope” Dean said. “He didn’t need it at all – doesn’t mean he doesn’t look good now, though.”

“Anyway” Ketch answered, “I’m still here because – well –“

He stopped and tried to look worried. It had about the same effect as if a hyena had tried to do the same.

Crowley could put on a better show of feeling empathy when he had to.

“Yes?” Dean finally asked. “You do realize you took yourself out of the race –“

“Because you wouldn’t even give me a chance! You were so focused on Crowley – have been from the first night, really –“

“Is that just because I have him the first rose?” For a second, Crowley thought that he was going to confirm it had been pity all along and something he hadn’t felt in a long time swelled in his chest (and how confusing it was, experiencing those feelings again – it made him remember why he had stayed away from them for so long) but then he continued smoothly, “For the record, I figured a guy who could stay completely calm while everyone ganged up on him was worth a second look. And I really don’t know what you think you can achieve by –“

“He’s not even here for the right reasons!”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Do you know how often I have heard that?”

“I don’t care for what reason he originally came here” Sheryl suddenly said quietly. “Crowley’s a good man.” She gave him a shy smile of a sort he didn’t think he’d ever seen directed at himself before.

He didn’t know how to react. Anger he was familiar with. Hatred, sure. Annoyance, oh yes, he had ruined many people’s days in his time. But gratitude and friendliness?

“You know Sheryl, pretty sure trying to break the others is against the rules” Dean said lightly. He didn’t touch Crowley, but he could feel him wanting to.

“I didn’t mean to.”

Maybe she wasn’t made for this kind of life after all. Underneath all the cunning and her attempts to make a name for herself on that first night, there was actually a decent person buried; and to his surprise, Crowley didn’t want to see her crushed.

“Look, like you said” Cassie said, exasperated, “Dean clearly made his choice between you tow. And I don’t know about the others, but I am not in the least surprised.

“Me either” Benny piped up. “I was pretty damn sure who Dean would pick. For one, Crowley actually listens to him when he talks, so that’s a good basis for a successful date.”

“I listen –“

“Mostly you just talk about yourself” Dean told him.

Ketch huffed and stood up, looking every bit the indignant suitor. “Fine. But don’t come crawling back when you pick him and he leaves you within a month.”

“That would actually be a rather long relationship for this show, wouldn’t it?” Crowley asked. “Then again, I am ready to believe that days with me would just fly by, while after a week with you Dean would probably feel like at the end of an unsuccessful ten years marriage –“

Really, it shouldn’t have been that that made Ketch snap. As far as insults went, it wasn’t even one of Crowley’s better ones.

But the next thing he knew, Ketch tried to punch him in the face. Now, considering that the others had mostly been rather pleasant to him in the last few days, and he certainly didn’t want to hurt Dean (and if didn’t tell him what kind of danger he was in, nothing would) he was careful to doge it without touching any of them.

That didn’t deter him.

Ketch might have trained in martial arts – and based on his moves, there was no question he had – but Crowley knew how to fight; and within seconds, they were in the pool.

Unlike the last time, the face he broke through the surface to this time was not exactly a welcome sight.

“You –“ Ketch spat water and glared at him.

“Are we going to play nice now or do I have to use more force?”

“Well, I have to say this, brother” Benny said, “It’s certainly never boring with Crowley around.”

“You can say that again.”

Dean kneeled down by the pool and reached out a hand. “You alright?”

“Yes.” Crowley looked down at himself. “Well... the clothes might be ruined.”

“Oh no how are we ever going to tell Balthazar” Dean deadpanned.

Crowley reached out and accepted the offered hand. Dean helped him out. “Nice view though” he smirked, looking at his wet t-shirt.

From Cassie’s smile it was easy to tell that she agreed.

“What about me?” Ketch complained.

“If you really think I’m going to help you after the stunt you just pulled...” Dean said. “Don’t know about you guys, but I’m going to try and relax for a bit.”

They left Ketch there and Crowley went in search of some dry clothes.

* * *

Roché was delighted with the scene; at least his excitement seemed to eclipse any disappointment that he wouldn’t get to see Ketch on the screen anymore.

Naturally, Crowley had to do an interview about their fight.

“And you reacted quite well, Crowley. Is there anything you went to tell us about your past?”

“That’s not for me to disclose” he said simply.

“Come on!” Bela insisted. “We all saw what happened – and considering that your opponent was, sorry, but several years younger than you.”

“It’s not the age, it’s the experience” he reminded her.

Dean certainly didn’t seem to have a problem with the age gap between them.

As if she had followed his line of thought, Bela suddenly smiled. “Ah yes. Dean. Would you care to talk about the date, then?”

If there was one thing he didn’t want to do, it was talk about their kiss to an audience.

And of course she knew that.

* * *

After the interview – Bela had informed him that they were now going to talk to Dean – he once more escaped to the library.

It had been quite enough embarrassing scenes for the day, if you asked him.

That said, it had definitely not been all bad, he thought, and was surprised when he caught his reflection in the window and realized he was smiling to himself.

Hood God, what was Dean Winchester doing to him?

He could just imagine what Gavin would have to say about this.

Some things, he decided, couldn’t be helped.

* * *

At dinner, Dean did his best to be his most charming self, probably to make them all forget that Ketch had decided to play a prima donna and throw people into pools.

All in all, it would have been a nice evening, if he hadn’t reminded Crowley of something that had slipped his mind – maybe because of that kiss.

Damn Dean Winchester and whatever spell he had over him.

“Look on the bright side – only four if you left. At least I get to meet your families now.”

Dear God.

_Meeting the family._

He could be reasonably sure that Gavin and Fiona would welcome Dean with open arms.

But his mother – that was another story entirely.


	12. Chapter 12

Crowley could quite vividly remember the last time he had seen his mother – Gavin’s birthday dinner (that had taken place on his son’s insistence, naturally; not even he would have to chosen to inflict her presence on him) had certainly been enough of an experience that even he and Fiona had decided they didn’t have to meet often.

And now they would not only have to meet, but try and get to know Dean, and in front of cameras too.

Wonderful.

At least the producers would let her know themselves, and Gavin must already have spoken to her as well.

Thank God for small favours.

The others didn’t seem to have the same problems Crowley feared. At least he had one thing in common with them – none of them had large families; maybe Dean was drawn to people who seemed... alone (he hadn’t been lonely before, certainly. On the contrary, every time his mother had come back into his life, he had wished that he was considerably lonelier than he actually was).

Dean would meet with Cassie’s widowed mother, Benny’s niece and Sheryl’s parents, and that was it. Curiously, the bachelor was the only one who had a sibling (well, a sibling worth the name. Crowley had no idea where Oskar was, and he was glad for it).

So he could focus on the fact that the man he actually wanted to seduce would be stuck in a room with his mother. Gavin and Fiona wouldn’t be a problem, he was well aware of that; Gavin after all was the one who had brought him here in the first place, and he must be ecstatic that it had worked out so far. And Fiona had always been nice to Crowley, if rather wary at times. And that was quite frankly just fair, considering who he was.

So Dean and Rowena Crowley. In a room. Together.

No, he didn’t see this end well.

* * *

He had always prided himself on his ability to hide his emotions. Few had ever managed to look past his attitude (sadly one of them being his mother), and he felt confident that none of the others had realized what he thought of the hometown dates.

 _Hometown_. What even _was_ his hometown? Technically they would have had to fly to England, but he supposed they were going to New York, where his business was.

He should have known that there was at least one person in the mansion who wasn’t so easily fooled.

A knock on the library door brought him out of his reverie.

It was Dean. “You alright? You seemed upset at breakfast.”

“I am perfectly fine.”

“Because you believed me when I said the same at the fair” the surgeon said smoothly, sliding into the seat opposite of him. “What is it? The hometown dates? Any creepy serial killers in the family I should know of before you throw me into the wolf’s den?”

If there was a candidate in his family for turning into a serial killer, it was Crowley himself, but he wasn’t about to admit that. “None. My mother is a piece of work, however.”

“If I told you I am actually glad my dad isn’t here anymore to make a mess of things, would that help or make you even more nervous?”

“Depends. Three pigs, remember?”

“True, he never tried to sell us... One thing in his favour, I’d say. But at least you didn’t have to practically raise your younger brother.”

“What happened to your mother?” he asked, realizing in the next moment that it might not have been the nicest thing to say.

“She died when I was four. House fire. Dad used to tell us how perfect their marriage was, but lets just say Grandma and Grandpa Campbell never held back, and when I asked a few of their old Freudians later... well... I don’t think it was all so fairytale like as he wanted to believed. Point is, every family’s got secrets. No reason to be ashamed of yours.”

“You haven’t met her yet.”

“Oh I’m looking forward to it.” Dean grinned. “Never seen a pig trader before.”

Yes.

Fergus Crowley, business consultant and self-proclaimed heartless bastard, was _definitely_ in trouble.

* * *

It didn’t surprise him that Roché had scheduled his hometown date as the last. The man was clearly pushing for Dean to choose Cassie -  or rather, seemed convinced that was the foregone conclusion.

Crowley, meanwhile, had decided on another tactic. He would see how Dean would handle Rowena. If he didn’t mind her (an almost impossible scenario, but then again, he was a highly qualified surgeon, so he should be able to handle stressful situations) – well then, as strange as it may seem to reality TV experts, there was every reason to think Crowley had a chance.

After all, so far he had been himself and Dean hadn’t thrown him out.

He’d just have to wait and see. Granted, he’d never had many virtues to begin with, and patience wouldn’t have been one of them even if he had, but he’d always known how to wait when there was a business deal at stake... and in a way, this wasn’t that different from the difficult negotiations he’d had over the years.

* * *

The first hometown date was Cassie, further cementing her favourite status, at least according to Roché, who was apparently hoping to amp the drama by riling them up while she and Dean were gone.

The problem being, as Charlie confided in Crowley, that this was actually one of the most drama-free seasons she could recall.

Of course she had seen every single one. Of course she had.

“Might have to do with the fact that Dean insisted on having older contestants than usual, or that he used his good old Winchester magic to charm everyone, but that’s how it is. Even you – don’t give me that look mister, we both know you were the prime candidate for causing trouble – get along with everyone.”

It was true; and he had every reason to believe that this was Dean’s influence. He was usually laid back and relaxed, and had made it clear early on that he didn’t find trouble makers attractive.

Well... unless it came to certain kinds of trouble.

“Maybe that’s why he wanted to keep Ketch.”

Charlie snorted. “The prissy little British drama queen. I knew from the first there was no chance in Hell Dean would pick him.”

Crowley wanted to ask what she thought of the others, but it was probably better if he didn’t. It would put Charlie in an awkward position – even more awkward than she already was in, of course.

He knew she and Dean conferred regularly, but he didn’t know how they found the time and managed to keep it a secret.

“I for one am glad that Dean doesn’t have to deal with any shouting matches. He’s here to find love, after all.”

“I would have thought that shouldn’t be a problem” he finally admitted. He’d been wondering why someone like Dean would be in need of a TV show to find a partner for a while. Certainly enough people must be throwing himself at him on a regular basis. And who could blame them?

Charlie was studying him, frowning. “Alright. I’m gonna tell you. But you better not use this against me or Dean, you hear? I can fry your business’ computer faster than you can blink.”

He didn’t doubt that.

“Dean’s had a few bad relationships in the past. Makes it difficult for him to truly open up top people.”

That was the weirdest thing he’d heard in a while. Dean certainly had had no problems describing his upbringing or the relationship of his parents to Crowley in private.

“And so Sam came up with this idea.” She smiled somewhat wryly. “Of course he is utterly convinced that he knows exactly what type of person would suit him, but well... Let’s just wait and see. This is going to be fun!”

“Are you keeping in contact with Dean’s family and friends then, too?”

“Of course. Would hardly be a proper conspiracy now if I wasn’t, would it.”

He had to admit she was dedicated.

“Also doesn’t hurt that so many beautiful ladies were and still are running around. Have you seen Bela Talbot?”

“Oh yes, but the appeal diminishes somewhat when you have to sit down with her and answer her questions.”

“From what I hear you refuse to answer them anyway.”

“What I am thinking is none of their business.”

“You do realize the point of this show is that it’s everyone’s business?” Charlie asked.

He didn’t answer.

* * *

 

To his chagrin, he realized over the next two days that he actually missed Dean, he, who had spent most of his adult life alone and content to be so.

And yet here he was, waiting for Dean to come back, pining like a teenager.

If he hadn’t been so selfish, or so entranced by his sparkling green eyes, he might have thought it a good idea to lose after all and get rid of those feelings.

But on the other hand...

If he won, he wouldn’t have to live without him again.


	13. Chapter 13

The night after Dean and Cassie returned – she was nice as ever, but still refused to openly tell them what had happened; Roché was rather frustrated that this didn’t seem to produce any results while Crowley felt thankful

He had a plan to set in motion, there was hardly time for catty fighting. And so, it was not quite a coincidence that he stumbled across Dean in the library once more.

“I thought you’d maybe want to rest” he drawled when he found Dean having a quiet drink over Dickens.

He laid the book aside and gave him a tired grin. “Not everyone of us as is as old and worn down as you.”

He huffed. “Right because you are such a vision at the moment.”

“You should be glad no cameras are rolling, Roché would have your hide for this.”

“A risk I am prepared to take” Crowley announced, pouring himself a drink.

“Why am I not surprised.”

“Because you’re not an idiot.”

“I assume that is a compliment, coming from you” Dean chuckled, but again, it sounded more tired than anything else.

Was he supposed to ask? One of the few things Crowley had never bothered to learn in his life had been how to comfort people he felt a genuine interest in –for the simple reason that he had so seldom experienced that. “Was the hometown date not to your liking?” he asked, sitting down in front of him. If it came out as selfish or childish, so be it – but at least he would know.

“No use beating around the bush, hm?” Another sad little smile, then Dean sighed and looked away. “Everything went fine.”

Was it a good sign that he confided in him? Crowley couldn’t decide. On the one hand, it showed a certain amount of trust, on the other, it could mean that Dean didn’t see him as a serious contender for his hand – or anything else, really – after all. Still, if he needed someone to listen, Crowley could easily provide and ear.

“I can already hear Sam recommending that I choose her, and none of you have even met my family yet.”

“Surely this means she’s a good fit?”

Dean squinted at him. “You’re a weird one, you know that? Sometimes I can’t read you at all.”

“I have not made a habit of letting people read my inmost thought without some incentive.“

“You can say that again.” Deans whirled the whiskey in his glass (not Craig, but good enough, at least according to Crowley), and continued, “Cassie is lovely, and Benny is fun to be with. Sheryl... we all know that’s not going anywhere, her included, but I had to keep someone from that memorable first night around, if only to make Balthazar happy.”

He carefully neglected to mention Crowley at all, which again, either meant he had ever chance or none at all. But based on their experiences so far, there must at least be a minimal one, he decided.

“And like I said, Cassie and Sam would get on like a house on fire.”

“I thought the point was that you would get along with her, and not your brother: I certainly wouldn’t pick anyone based on Oskar’s tastes.”

“Who’s Oscar?”

Crowley winced. “My younger brother. Or, as my mother would pit it, the only child who didn’t disappoint her.”

“That wouldn’t be the mother I’m going to meet, would it?”

“I only happen to have the one, I am afraid.”

“I’ll have to make do, then.”

“I have no doubt you will.”

“So. Oskar?”

Dean wouldn’t let go of the question now, he felt, and so he continued, “He is much younger than I am. We’re not in contact anymore:”

“Ah, so I won’t meet the better Crowley sibling? How disappointing.”

“I said my mother thinks he’s better than me. That’s not exactly a good sign.”

“If you say so...” Dean looked pensive. “Well ,at least now I know all about the skeleton in your closet.”

“What makes you think I only have one?”

“I like to be surprised, so more would be a bonus.”

Crowley wondered if Cassie had any. It was unlikely. Her mother was probably as pleasant as she was.

“Well...” Dean drained his glass and stood up. “I better get some rest.” He reached out and squeezed Crowley’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

Before he had come up with an appropriate response – like kissing him again – Dean had left the room and Crowley was left to ponder whether or not it was a good thing that he hadn’t talked about his own chances.

Or that other skeleton in his closet that might very well be a deal breaker after all. 

* * *

Benny’s hometown visit was up next, scheduled for two days from now; and Crowley was busy wondering why he had to come up with a “fun and quirky” thing he and Dean could undertake while in New York. Surely it would be better to place more emphasis on getting to know each other and the family of the –

Alright, maybe it would be a good idea to keep Dean as far away from his mother as possible.

Charlie, meanwhile, was trying to get him to wear something different from a suit. Again. “Surely New Yorkers know how to relax and have fun now and then?”

“I fail to see how this means I am not allowed to wear my suits ever again.”

“That’s not what I said, and you know it” she huffed. “Yoyo know, for someone –“ she caught herself just in time and shook her head. “Damn. I should be careful about what I say. God knows Dean would never let me hear the end of it.”

Great. Now he was even more curious as to what she had been about to tell him.

“Anyway, you know Dean. He likes to party now and then, sure, but he also likes quiet evening and relaxing with his best friends... or his significant other.” She winked at him.

Somehow, despite everything she had seen during her stay in the mansion, she seemed to be on Crowley’s side – so there was something in his favour; although why she would think so when Dean was certain his own brother would be for one candidate, and one candidate only, Crowley had no idea.

“Yeah, well... Gotta dash. See you later!”

And she left Crowley to ponder his dilemma.  

* * *

The hometown visits of Benny and Sheryl seemed to go quite as well as Cassie’s, if their demeanour was anything to go by; but ever since his and Dean’s talk in the library, Crowley had been growing rather interested in what Sheryl thought of it all.

He got his answer late one night, shortly before he and Dean were supposed to take off for New York.

He was taking a walk and found Sheryl sitting alone at the pool, apparently content to watch the waves. “Hi Crowley.”

Still a bit wary of her, he approached her with caution. She laughed. “Oh, don’t look like that. I won’t say anything about my visit, and we both know it doesn’t matter anyway. You, Cassie and Bennie are going to be the finalists, and that’s... final.”

He blinked.

She grinned. “Dean and I talked about it openly – off camera of course, Roché would have had a fit otherwise – and really it’s better for both of us if we stay friends. He’s a great guy, but I am too young to settle down with anyone, and I don’t think any man I got drunk over is a good idea, do you?”

Yes, he had seriously underestimated her in the beginning, it seemed.

Still, it was something to hear her later say “Good luck Crowley” as she slipped back into the mansion.


	14. Chapter 14

Dean had been nervous the whole day. Not that Crowley had seen much of him – he’d been conspicuously absent from their meals, and in fact seemed to avoid them, which was rather strange since he got along well with all of them.

Something was wrong. And since he had sadly found that he couldn’t stop caring about him, he had to find out _what_ was wrong.

Cornering him was probably not a good idea, though.

Thankfully he didn’t have to resort to it because Dean was indeed hiding in the library, pretending to read. He looked up. “Crowley. Should’ve known. “

“Is something the matter?” He made a dramatic pause, than asked, “Anyone I have to kill?”

Dean snorted. “That would make Balthazar happy. Imagine the ratings.”

“Indeed. So, anything I should know?”

Dean definitely couldn’t be nervous about his hometown visit, not when he had already gone through three of them.

He sighed. “Any chance you’ll stop asking?”

“Not as long as you look like you got run over by a – ”

“It’s Sam’s anniversary” Dean pressed out.

“Shouldn’t that be a cause for celebration?”

“Not his marriage anniversary. He’s...” Dean cleared his throat then said quickly, “He’s twelve years sober, now.”

Ah. That explained it. “Alcohol?”

“Drugs. First relatively harmless, then cocaine.”

Crowley’s blood ran cold. “That must have been... difficult.”

“You can say that again. There’s no chance of him relapsing now, and I know that, but I still worry.” Dean looked at him, a weariness he’d never seen before in his eyes. “God, it’s such a cliché, but you don’t know what we’ve been through. And not being able to spend the day with him...”

“I am sure his wife is keeping him company” Crowley said, his mind still reeling.

“True” Dean smiled. “She’s wonderful. I’m so glad they found each other. It’s not easy to find someone you can be open about that kind of thing with.”

No. It wasn’t easy.

Crowley knew it wasn’t easy.

Not because he’d looked for someone to spend his life with, but because – because –

Because he was all too familiar with the seductive allure of drugs.

And dean had just admitted to him that his brother had been an addict, which meant –

“I know. Not exactly the most attractive thing to learn about a guy, that his little brother once told him he’d sell him for another fix, is it”. Dean smiled wryly. “It’s why I don’t go around telling everyone.”

“Ni, I am just... surprised.”

Surprised was one word to put it. Shocked was another.

Shocked that for the first time in a long time, he wanted to tell somebody the whole truth.

* * *

 

In hindsight, he should have had the courage to tell Dean the truth that night.

Especially considering what happened just two days later.

They were flying to New York, Dean once again looking nervous and uncomfortable; he held his hand again and Crowley wondered if he would do the same if he’d known that he was cuddling up to another former addict.

But then, it was hardly the time to talk about it, with cameras everywhere around them.

“I hate this” Dean mumbled when they hit turbulences.

“I hadn’t noticed. I thought you wanted to break my hand.”

He opened an eye to glare at him. “It’s an anxiety disorder, and you knew I had it, so you better be prepared to hold my hand.”

“Again, I wasn’t the one to apply for this in the first place, and how was I to know I would settle myself with a nervous flyer?”

“Bold of your to assume you’ll be the one I settle on” Dean grumbled but it certainly didn’t sound like he meant it (Crowley hoped sop, at least; Dean had proved surprisingly hard to read). “Anyway, planes are stupid. If we were meant to fly, God would have given us wings).

“You’re a surgeon, shouldn’t you know better than to believe in God?”

“Unfair” he chided him, but their fight had made him relax, at least, so it couldn’t be that bad.

Dean squeezed his hand.

Definitely not bad.

* * *

 

Crowley was surprised at his own pleasure at being back in New York. He had always assumed that he didn’t mind where he worked or lived.

And yet there was something about the Big Apple that had apparently drawn him in.

Dean commented on it once he had caught his breath after the landing. “Being at home suits you. You look relaxed.”

“Wait until you meet my mother” he warned him once more.

He chuckled. “Still. Do you really love the city that much?”

“I never thought about it” he answered honestly, realizing why Dean was asking. It might take a few discussions until they could decide who would move where and –

Wait, what was he thinking? Granted, he would rather like to win this show, but that didn’t mean he had to think of happily ever after already.

“I see.” Dean seemed to think about it. “I guess there are hospitals here too” he then said matter-of-factly.

“I’d rather recommend it.”

“Aren’t you chipper. Forget what I said just now.”

Again, he could have pointed out that they were going to meet his mother, but that would have been redundant.

* * *

 

In the end, Crowley hadn’t had many problems figuring out where to take Dean. It might not have been a “typical” New York activity, but he did remember their first date – and the circumstances that had led to it.

And so Dean doubled over with laughter when he exited the limousine and found himself staring at the Brooklyn Morbid Anatomy Museum. “And they say romance is dead.”

“Not in an age of public media consumption, my dear” Crowley said.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear the sarcasm there”. Dean kissed his cheek, leaving him once more feeling appropriately flustered, to the camera man’s obvious amusement. “Now let’s get going!”

* * *

 

Dean in an anatomy museum was a sight that Crowley decided must be very similar to that of a child in a candy shop, however since he had mostly stayed away from children and candy shops, he couldn’t say for sure.

His inability to be certain did nothing to curb Dean’s enthusiasm, however.

“Oh my God, look at that – the bullet wound is really well done!” he was standing in front of a rather horrible wax effigy, grinning brightly.

Crowley was beginning to wonder what Cassie would have said to all of this.

However, she wasn’t here with Dean. Crowley was, and he did find his enjoyment of it all very adorable, and much to his own chagrin, he wasn’t even annoyed that he did.

“Why do they call it morbid though?” Dean asked.

Crowley wordlessly pointed at a Memento Mori figure that did its name justice.

Dean grinned. “But everyone has to die, so that’s just common sense.”

“I still think most people wouldn’t put it in their houses, these days.”

“Their loss. I got a skull for my bedroom as a teen.”

“A real one?”

“Oh yes.”

“Where did you get it?”

Dean winked. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He was discovering more and more layers to Dean Winchester, and it was as confusing as it was exhilarating.

He was definitely unlike any other man he had ever met.

“So” Dean asked quietly as they studied another piece, undoubtedly so the microphones wouldn’t pick it up, “Anything I should know? And I mean, anything I should really know before we meet your family?”

Crowley highly doubted this was the moment to be honest about his past, and he shook his head. “No. You simply have to know that my mother happens to be rather unpleasant, but that’s all.”

“I can handle unpleasant. Surgeon, remember?”

“What am I supposed to say, then? Business consultant.”

“Fair point: So she must be _really_ unpleasant. Oh well, nothing I can’t handle.”

Crowley hoped he was right.

* * *

 

After their visit to the museum, they pie, mostly because Crowley had learned that Dean most definitely had a sweet tooth. He himself had never liked sweets much, but when Dean held out his fork and fed him a piece – he could hardly say no to that, now, could he?

All in all, their hometown date had gone far better than either the producers could have wanted or even Crowley, with his careful planning, could have hoped for; and that should have been his first warning that things were about to go bad, as he would later reflect.

They had chosen to meet up at Gavin’s and Fiona’s house; Roché had informed him that they were apparently very eager to see Dean and so far rather pleased that he was still on the show, even though Gavin had only thought it a prank in the beginning.

With them being two of the nicest young people he had ever met (he blamed his son’s growing up so far away from him for that) he didn’t doubt that Roché was telling the truth.

At least their pleasantness should counteract his mother.

He didn’t know that Rowena was not the one he had to watch out for. Horrible as his mother was, she knew when to keep her mouth shut, and in recent years she had shown some signs of mellowing at last; or at least of not being inclined to hurt him as much as she had for the last few decades. Not that he would ever have admitted that she had succeeded.

No, there was another problem on the horizon, one he had failed to foresee.

* * *

Since they had to film the very first greeting between him, Dean and his family, there was no chance to send them a warning, but he knew from Gavin’s uneasy smile when he opened the door that something wasn’t right.

“Hello, Father. You must be Dean.”

“The one and only” he agreed, shooting Crowley a glance. So he had noticed it to.

Gavin cleared his throat and said brightly – too brightly – “This seems to be a day of first introductions. After all, I just met an uncle I never knew I had.”


	15. Chapter 15

Why of all the times Oskar, that snivelling rat, could have decided to reappear in his life, did it have to be this one? And undoubtedly his dearest mother was ecstatic that her favourite child was back.

“Bad news?” Dean asked without moving his lips. And perversely, Crowley wondered if he and Benny had talked this way before.

Jealousy. What an unwelcome new experience, on a day that would probably bring quite a few more of them.

“You might say that” he answered instead. “Oskar is... not exactly a friend of mine.”

“Your brother” Dean said evenly, pretending he had never heard the name.

“Younger brother, by almost fifteen years. Last thing I knew, he’d all but disappeared off the face of the earth.”

“And you didn’t mind”.

“Not one bit.”

Dean squeezed his forearm as they entered the house.

Fiona hurried to greet them, and Crowley’s mood plummeted even further.

It was one thing to show up and make him uncomfortable. Quite frankly, he was used to that and expected it whenever Oskar showed up; but no one had any right to make Fiona’s smile so subdued, or make her feel unwelcome in her own home.

He more felt than saw Dean bristle next to him and had to suppress a smile.

“Hello, I suppose you are Fiona? I will say this, the men in the family have amazing taste” he said, shaking her hand and winking at her.

She laughed. “Oh, if you think complimenting me will get you in my father-in-law’s good books...”

“All I am hoping for” he deadpanned; Crowley noticed that he was careful not to draw himself up to his full height, in order to make her feel more comfortable.

It was official. Dean Winchester was everything he shouldn’t possibly have wanted.

“Well then, let’s get to meet the rest” Dean decided, shooting Crowley a glance.

He grimaced (thankfully the cameras were focused on Dean at the moment), but nodded.

“I really wish there was anything I could ask” Dean muttered and Crowley realized to his surprise that he was nervous as well, and that after three other hometown visits.

“Oh, you got Father to put on jeans, I am already on your side” Gavin told him cheerfully. (Good God, had he been in contact with Charlie as well?)

Dean blinked, looked at him, then at Crowley. “Are you sure you’re related?”

“That’s what they all say.”

Fiona had relaxed considerably during their banter and now led them into the dining room.

Of course his mother had put on one of her sparkling gowns. This one had to be a deep red, naturally –

“Ah” Dean said, scooping down before anyone could say anything and kissing her hand, “Just like you on the night we first met. I was right about good taste running in the family.”

And for once, Crowley got to watch his mother being flustered. It was quite the sight.-

Oskar cleared his throat and Crowley met his brother’s eyes for the first time in years.

They hadn’t gone by without a trace. He had definitely put on weight, and growing older became him a lot worse than Crowley, he thought smugly. “Oskar. How nice to see you.” There was no point in trying to hide the fact that he was being sarcastic; Dean would realize immediately, and no camera in the world would get Oskar to behave.

He stood up, a false smile on his lips. “When Mum told me what you were up to, I had to come!”

Crowley had tried to call her Mum once, when he had been very young. The ensuing dressing down had ensured he had never tried to again, but of course Oskar got away with it.

Dean moved slightly closer to him. Since no one had ever felt protective of him before, it was another new experience.

“It’s quite something, isn’t it” he said, “Crowley actually got champagne thrown on him that first night.”

“In the bottle?” Oskar’s eyes sparkled at the thought and Dean frowned.

“Thank God, no. Would have been a shame to disfigure that pretty face.”

“I am not surprised that you managed to antagonize the other candidates, Fergus” his mother said.

“Well, they provoked him, if you ask me” Dean said lightly. “Made some comments about his age, I believe, as if it’s anything but a number. I mean I just have to look at you to see that, Miss Crowley.”

He had apparently decided he was going to use the same approach that had worked on Crowley himself – kill them with kindness.

And indeed, Rowena blushed as she answered, “Rowena, please.”

“In that case he likes to be called Crowley, isn’t that right?” Dean reached out to take his hand.

Crowley felt the incredulous stares of Rowena and Oskar – and even Gavin and Fiona seemed surprised.

Dean sat down, drawing him into the chair next to him. “Well then, I do have quite the appetite.”

“Oh yes, that museum was certainly enough to make anyone feel hungry.”

“It was your idea, and I have seen much, much worse.”

“That’s right, you’re a surgeon” Oskar said. “Can’t see that you have much in common.”

“You’d be surprised. We’re both very into Vonnegut. And he liked the Morbid Anatomy museum too.”

“You went to the Morbid Anatomy Museum, Fer – Crowley?” Rowena frowned. “That hardly seems romantic –“

“Oh that one time, he drew me a picture of a guy strangling another guy. If that isn’t romance, I don’t know what is.”

It was highly amusing to watch Rowena and Oskar try to get under Dean’s skin while he sued his natural charm to show that he was not to be trifled with; and he still hadn’t let go of his hand.

Gavin clearly wanted to ask a million questions, and Fiona shot him knowing looks now and then.

“So, what do you do, Gavin?” Dean asked.

Gavin launched into an explanation of his work as a sommelier – Crowley would never have admitted it, but he was proud of what he had made of himself – and Fiona, a paediatrician, was soon trading hospital stories with Dean.

Crowley had to correct himself.

Watching Oskar squirm while trying to eat? Now that was fun.

“So, dean, it’s time I ask you about your intentions towards my son” Rowena announced in a voice that brooked no argument, Taking Dean’s attention away from Fiona.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yes, I mean, I want to know as well. Seeing as my brother’s happiness is on the line” Oskar said.

“Oh I can clearly see how close you two are” Dean deadpanned. “And to answer your question, Rowena, of course I cannot say anything definitive at the present moment – the producers would kill me if I gave away the ending –“ Mother giggled and fluttered her eyelashes at him “But I do like Crowley very much, we have quite a few things in common, and I would really like to get to know him even better. Naturally, if we should decide to move forward with the relationship, we would have to talk about who moves where and when, but we’d have more than enough time to figure things out, then.”

It was the moment Crowley first well and truly realized that he did stand a chance.

As strange as it sounded, Dean actually _liked_ him.

* * *

 

After dinner Crowley decided to help clean the table, since he’d had enough of his mother and Oskar for one evening. Dean smoothly ensured that the cameras would stay with him, since he bravely began another discussion of their potential future, and Crowley wished they were alone so he could show him properly how thankful he was.

“Dean’s very nice” Fiona said brightly as soon as he had entered the kitchen.

Gavin was doing his best not to look smug but failing utterly.

His son after all.

“He is an amusing companion” Crowley confirmed.

Gavin snorted. “You do realise we’ve seen you look at him Father, right?”

“I fail to see how that changes anything. I look at many people in the course of a day. Plus, I can hardly be certain that he’ll choose me, so developing feelings for him would be a rather stupid idea to begin with.”

“Just like you when we first met” Fiona told Gavin, “You were too scared to ask too.”

Crowley decided he should probably check up on Dean and how he was faring before Fiona and Gavin decided to plan their wedding.

* * *

 

When Crowley came back, the atmosphere in the room had subtly but definitely changed. Dean looked more uncomfortable than he had since they had entered the house, and Oskar was sniggering in a way Crowley had come to associate with Rowena once again showing them clearly which child she preferred; but there was no reason that Dean should feel uncomfortable with that –

And then, after he had sat own and reached for his glass, he saw Dean watch him from the corner of his eyes, and it wasn’t an appreciate look.

No, he looked more... apprehensive.

But why would he –

Then he realized he was having his customary glass of Craig. And that there was a very good reason why a doctor would be worried upon seeing him with alcohol in his hands.

He met Oskar’s eyes and the triumph in them could not be mistaken.

He had told Dean about his drug problems.

Yes, Crowley decided, it was time to make good of an old threat and kill him once and for all.


	16. Chapter 16

Crowley’s first thought was that Dean’s move to keep the cameras on him and give him time to relax had, thanks to Rowena and Oskar, rather spectacularly backfired. There was no way Roché wouldn’t use this material.

“Crowley? Everything alright?” Dean asked. _Trying to appear casual._

“Oh yes. Just the usual teasing.”

“Because you are so used to that.” Dean’s voice sounded flat.

“Well, that’s what happens when a son you never ever knew you had suddenly appears.” It was useless to try and distract everyone from the revelation of his addiction, but he had to regardless.

“Must have been quite a surprise” Dean answered, now sounding more like himself, thank God.

“Oh yes. Fergus needed three months to confess it to me.”

“Seems like a grown man has little reason to confess anything to his mother, you know, since it’s his life and all.”

Dean was acting more hostile than he had since they had arrived, but he was also clearly still defending Crowley, and that was something; at least from Oskar’s expression, he assumed that the hadn’t expected this to happen.

“And hey, only _mater semper certes est_ , am I right?” Dean continued, now obviously trying to make light of the situation.

Good God, and they would have to talk this through in front of the cameras.

Roché would be thrilled.

At least they managed to get away soon after, Gavin and Fiona clearly confused as to what had gone wrong.

Dean settled back into the limousine and closed his eyes. “When we get back to the hotel, could we talk?”

Normally Crowley would have pointed out how stupid it was that they had insisted on paying for a hotel room when he had a perfectly functioning apartment, but he thought it better not to say anything. He nodded.

The hotel was, as usual for this show, stupidly luxurious, but he didn’t pay it any attention as he followed Dean. How intimate... apart from the crew and their obnoxious cameras, of course.

When Dean turned around to face him, he was surprised to see he looked... actually somewhat scared. “Alright, sorry, I know there is a very good reason you didn’t tell me. God knows that’s not the kind of thing you just blurt out on the first date. It’s just... I...” Dean glanced at the cameras and swallowed before smoothly continuing, “Being a doctor I have seen a fair share of this, and...”

So he wasn’t going to talk about his brother’s past on television. Of course not. It was equally clear that had he known, he wouldn’t have mentioned Crowley’s either, but for Oskar and his meddling ways.

He would think about an appropriate punishment later.

“I am clean. Have been for over twenty years, now. I promise.” He was the first to know that a promise of his wasn’t anything to hold onto, but it was true.

“And you were never... tempted?” Dean asked.

“Of course I was, and you wouldn’t believe me if I told you I’d never been. It’s an addiction.”

Dean nodded, apparently satisfied, than hesitated. “Just – what was it?”

“Heroin” he said flatly.

He’d stopped taking it when he’d realized the toll it was taking on his business.

“I see” Dean said, looked away, then back at him.

And suddenly, Crowley was being kissed harshly.

“What am I going to do with you?” Dean breathed against his lips then abruptly left the room.

What indeed.

* * *

 

The good thing was that, since they had had dinner with his family, it was already rather late and no one seemed to be anxious for more footage of them that day.

Naturally, Crowley couldn’t sleep. Dean had seemed rather relaxed about it all, considering his family history, but...

A knock on his – window?

When he came to check, he saw Dean balance himself on the windowsill and hastened to let him in. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure no one knows I came to speak to you. The walls have ears.” He hopped in.

“You’re insane.”

“According to some, I must be or I would have eliminated you weeks ago.”

“Are you going to now?” he asked, doing his best to sound as if he didn’t care.

“You know it’s not that easy. It never is.” Dean looked at him then, in a way he never had before. “And you _are_ clean?”

“Completely.”

“And you don’t think you’ll start again anytime soon?”

“No” he said firmly. He knew better than to risk his health and his brain, now.

“Good. That’s really good.” Dean touched him then, just lightly, above the heart he had pretended his whole life not to have. “Would have ruined my plans for you.”

Plans?

But Dean didn’t elaborate. Instead he kissed him again.

How could he not reciprocate?

* * *

 

The next day, they flew back; Dean was once more clutching at his hand, but Crowley wasn’t sure if that was because of his fear of planes or because he genuinely wanted him to.

Then again, their make out session last night had been rather... intense; and if Dean hadn’t eventually drawn back, who knew what it might have led to?

Still, there was one simple question – if Dean liked him enough to trust his assurances that he wouldn’t be taking drugs again; and normally he would have believed that no one could like him that much since he had been careful that that was exactly the case.

It only figured that it should work against him now when he actually wanted someone to like him.

He would have hoped that, since Oskar’s revelation had occurred far from the mansion, he would be spared any repercussions there, but of course Balthazar would welcome them with throwing his arms into the air and exclaiming, “Now what do I hear? Seems like this naughty boy has a few secrets...”

“Balthazar” Dean said, and his voice brooked no arguments, “This is a complex topic, and I am sure Crowley wouldn’t like it if you –“

“Now now now Dean, you know I already have given you quite enough input... it’s my turn.”

Dean groaned. “You –“

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence, if I were you. Now, let’s see...”

And that was how Crowley found himself at yet another intervention – if an intervention had ever been needed for a clean man.

To the other’s credit, they did look pretty uncomfortable, and Bela’s no-nonsense approach made it seem more like a business meeting than anything else.

“Is there something you want to say about all of this, Crowley?”

“Yes. I don’t think my brother had any right to tell Dean, especially with me not in the room.”

“That’s true” Dean said. “But then, more than one member of your family is a bit eccentric. No offense.”

“That was the nicest thing I have ever heard about them, you hardly need to apologize.”

Dean smiled at him.

Sheryl cleared her throat and started speaking, looking down at her hands. “I just – if you think that – maybe Crowley should have told you before – it’s – “ she swallowed. “He’s not the only one who’s had problems with drugs in his past. My teenage years were rather... wild and I... experimented and... I’m clean now too, but I still regularly go to the meetings.”

“Me too. Doing some readjustments, you know?”

She gave him a real smile. If he wasn’t careful, he’d get used to being treated like that. “Exactly.”

“No offense, but I really don’t see any reason for this to happen” Cassie declared. “Really it seems to me that this is Crowley’s and Sheryl’s business, and it’s only their choice if they went to tell Dean or not.”

“I agree” Benny said. “I do get that it’s the concept of the show to stir drama, but this seems a bit... inappropriate.”

“There, Mom” Dean told Bela. “Now that we’ve talked about it like adults, can we go now?”

She smiled, undoubtedly pleased that Balthazar wouldn’t be. “Of course. Thank you all for this enlightening talk.”

Only when she shot them a glance did Crowley realize that Dean had indeed chosen to sit next to him when there was a free place next to any of the others available.

* * *

Probably to make up for the drama that didn’t exist, Balthazar had had the room filled with flowers and red decorations for the rose ceremony; or perhaps it as always like this. Crowley still hadn’t watched a single episode of the show.

The first roses, as had been expected, went to Benny and Cassie. Dean once again had refused to let things be unnecessarily drawn out; and so he turned to Crowley and Sheryl, the last rose in hand, with a sad smile. “Too bad I can’t keep all of you around.”

“I think that would defeat the purpose” Crowley said. Sheryl just nodded.

Dean took a deep breath. “Now this decision wasn’t easy...” For some reason, he glanced to the left as he said it; Crowley had long since realized this was a sign that he wasn’t telling the whole truth, but what could he –

“Sheryl.”

There it was, then.

Dean cleared his throat, laying the rose aside and taking her hands. “Now, you’re a beautiful young woman, and I’m sure you’ll find someone to love you as much as you deserve. But I think we both know that’s not me.”

“No” she agreed, still smiling. “But we did have some fun times, didn’t we?”

“Oh hell yeah” Dean glanced over her shoulder. “Crowley with champagne in his face was quite the sight.”

She laughed then, even though Crowley believed it was tradition that at this point in the show, the candidates left in tears. “Ah yes, the good old days. Just take care who you pick. Friends?”

“Definitely” Dean agreed, and then they hugged.

In the window, Crowley could see Roché’s reflection.

No, this was _definitely_ not what he had wanted.

After Sheryl left, Dean stepped up to him and pinned the rose to Crowley’s lapel. “I really missed doing that when you wore jeans and a t-shirt.”

“So you said.”

“Hey” Dean said, poking him in the chest with a finger, “You better make this worth my while.”

“And here I thought you wanted to keep me around.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Dean’s green eyes were sparkling in the candlelight. Crowley took a deep breath.

Just two more to go.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit pressed for time this week, so I am afraid chapters might not be uploaded at the same pace. Sorry.

It was time to meet Dean’s family. Naturally, he should have believed that he simply couldn’t be nervous because the more daunting meeting – Rowena’s and Oskar’s with Dean – had already taken place and had almost cost him the gorgeous surgeon, and yet...

There was no saying how Sam Winchester would react to him.

There was something, however, in Charlie going through the wardrobe with him, grinning brightly, and deciding what he should wear.

“Come on!”

“I already wore jeans.”

“That’s the good thing about jeans. You don’t just throw them away after a day. You can wear them more often.”

“Shouldn’t I be comfortable when meeting Dean’s family?”

She snorted. “Please. As if they won’t know immediately.”

“Know what?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not. No wonder Dean likes you.” She paused. “You and Sam though... well it’s gonna be fun to watch and that’s what it’s about, right?”

“I fail to see the humour in creating drama for ratings.”

Unexpectedly, she became serious. “After what Dean told me about your hometown date, I am not surprised.” She looked him in the eyes then, and there was a dangerous gleam there that he couldn’t help but respect. “Listen. I know – well I probably know more than you’d like me to. But I can’t help it. I wanted Dean to be happy. I am aware of what you told him. And he believes you. That’s as good a reason as any to think you meant it when you said you weren’t doing that anymore. But if – well I was there when Sam had his problems. If Dean ever suffers through the same because of you I am going to make good of my threats concerning your hard drives.”

Again – Crowley had always known who to take seriously, and it wasn’t difficult to tell that she would indeed do what she promised. He nodded. “understood.”

“Good. Just wanted to be absolutely sure we understood one another.”

“I think we have been understanding each other since I first arrived here, Miss Bradbury.”

“How did you notice?”

* * *

 

Crowley met Cassie and Benny at the dinner table. One of the things he was very thankful for was that that memorably first night had not been a precursor to worse things to come, except for that tumble into the pool with Ketch, and that had barely left an impression on him. They were discussing Sheryl, but thankfully not by insulting her.

“That’s got to be a new one” Cassie said. “i have never seen an episode where the fourth one all but skipped out of the room after the finale. She and Dean must have become really good friends.”

“What do you think, Crowley?” Benny asked. “Did they?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

Benny gave him a look that clearly told him he was not impressed. “Fine, keep your cards close to your chest.”

He wanted to ask what that was supposed to mean when Dean arrived, looking as dashing as always. “Hi guys. Having fun?”

“As much fun as is to be had in the most luxurious prison in all the world” Crowley drawled and Dean grinned.

“You’ll be free soon. And hey at least you share it with me, right?”

“But I’m the only one who isn’t here out of his own free will” he whined.

Dean shook his head. “You and your –“

“Hey Cher, us two are here too, in case you haven’t noticed.”

Strangely enough, both Cassie and Benny were looking amused rather than annoyed. Surely, this went against the very format of this show?

 “Anyway, first Cassie is going to meet the family, then Benny, then  Crowley.”

“Of course I’, the last one.”

“Hey, maybe the just save the best for last” Dean said with a grin.

Crowley doubted it. Roché probably wanted to give Dean’s family every opportunity to compare him to the others.

Also he was rather certain that he would find some way to tell them about his past.

“So, I thought to be fair I’d let you know what or rather who to expect. There’s my baby brother, of course – Sam; and his wife Sarah. They were made for one another. Seriously, they get all lovey dovey if I’m not too careful. And then there’s Cas.”

Crowley remembered the name from when Charlie had told him about him, but did his best to look unimpressed as he asked, “Who’s Cas?”

“Castiel Novak. My best friend in this entire world – well except for one.”

Good that he had corrected himself. Charlie would have been rather angry, and she seemed to know everything that went on in this house.

“Cas and I go way back. He’s seen me at my worst and yet somehow still hangs out with me.” Dean thought about it for a moment. “Actually that’s pretty vice versa, if I say so myself. We’ve been in some scrapes... Anyway he’s a surgeon as well. We met in medical school. He’s a bit weird when you first meet him, but then who isn’t? Once you get to know him properly he’s pretty cool. Mostly I decided to have him around to balance out Sam, because when he gets into lawyer mode and starts interrogating people, it’s not fun for anyone.”

“He must be a good lawyer then, Cher.”

“The best” Dean grinned. “I’m, so proud of him.”

Small wonder, if he had indeed more or less raised him as his own, and Dean only a child himself at the time.

Crowley wondered if he was as proud of what he himself had achieved. Maybe not. Dean Winchester didn’t strike as someone who needed constant praise to feel better.

“Good thing is, I now have met all your families, so I should be able to tell who should get on with mine too!”

Crowley managed not to flinch. Barely. He could hardly imagine a worse combination than his mother and a lawyer.

“Then again, your mother baked me a pie, so there’s that” Dean winked at Cassie. She winked right back.

Now that was just unfair.

“Wait, I seem to remember I baked for you as well” Benny chimed in, “Just how much sweets did you eat during this week?”

“It’s okay, I know what’s good for me.”

 _Except for when it comes to giving me roses_ , Crowley thought suddenly.   _Most people would agree that’s the worst idea you’ve ever had._

He didn’t much care for the thought.-

He’d never enjoyed being too honest with himself. Not when it came to things like these.


	18. Chapter 18

The next week was rather confusing.

For one, Crowley didn’t want to know whether Dean visited Benny and Cassie in their rooms at night too, as he had made a habit of when it came to him; he despised himself for his weakness – both his mother and Oskar would have had something to say about it, too – but he couldn’t help it.

The first time happened the day after they’d returned from the hometown date. The cameras seemed to have doubled all over the house, and Crowley had decided to withdraw into his room with a book rather than stay in the library.

Naturally, due to the warm weather, he kept his window open, and he less surprised than he probably should have been when Dean climbed through about half an hour later. “You’re a difficult man to find.”

“That’s what the last three hit men said.”

Dean shook his head. “Is there any chance I’ll ever just get a smile and a “Nice to see you” out of you?”

“I’d have to practice, which means you’d have to keep me around.”

“Oh no poor me.”

Dean grinned and held up a bottle of Craig. “Look, I bring presents.”

There was no point in asking why he hadn’t come through the door; Crowley would rather not have his visit on film, either.

“What are you reading now?”

“Love in the time of cholera.”

“Huh. Always liked One Hundred Years of Solitude better myself. I mean what is the point in waiting for someone for fifty years?”

“Asked the guy who has people in a reality show compete over him.”

“Come on, you know what I meant. Plus I am not making you wait for fifty years.”

That was true enough, although Crowley was rather on the point of suspecting that if Dean had asked, he might at least have been ready to contemplate doing something like this. And wasn’t that terrifying.

“Anyway, let’s have a drink.”

Two drinks later, they were sitting side-by-side on the bed, and Crowley was wondering just how chaste they were supposed to be when Dean was more or less dating three people simultaneously now.

“Sammy’s a hard nut to crack” Dean said suddenly, and Crowley realized he was nervous, nervous as he himself had been before the hometown date, but in a different way. “Don’t get me wrong, I love him to bits, but man,... when he firmly believes in something, then nothing can stop him.”

Crowley wondered if that was a hint of the time Sam had spent on drugs, and Dean’s difficulties in trying to help him.

Since no one had bothered to do the same for him back then...

“What I mean to say” Dean continued, “If he gives you a hard time, just ignore him, at least at first.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem.”

“Still. Promise?”

And Crowley realized with surprise that Dean was actually worried.

So he did give a promise he actually meant to keep for once, and before Dean climbed back out the window, he kissed him good night.

That had only been the first time something similar had happened. Considering everything, Dean must spend quite as much time with Benny and Cassie too; there was simply no other explanation; but if he did...

None of them ever mentioned it, and Crowley kept their sadly non trysts a secret as well.

Soon enough, Dean left with Cassie to meet the family.

Benny and Crowley had lunch together. “So, what do you think of our chances?” he asked.

Crowley shrugged. “I think it depends too much on luck on one side and too much of what the producers want on the other to make any speculations.”

Benny blinked. “Why do I feel like you just gave me a lecture you’ve held for your employees several times over the years?”

“Because when it comes down to it, it’s all just business” he drawled.

Benny shook his head. “Oh well; at least I know things would have been difficult regardless. I mean, you can’t just take a restaurant and plant it somewhere else, and Dean seems to really like his job in Kansas.”

Interesting. So Benny didn’t think he would win when, at least from Crowley’s point of view, there was no reason to think so.

Crowley expected to be left alone for the rest of the day – but instead Charlie sought him out that afternoon. “Alright, you and me and a drive. Come on.”

“I rather think we shouldn’t leave –“

“Are you telling me you’re afraid of a little rule breaking?”

He couldn’t very well let anyone say that of him.

Charlie naturally knew where the cameras where, how they were positioned, and how to get out of the house without being seen. Not that Crowley didn’t; but it was impressive to see someone else go through the same moves he himself would have employed.

“So Dean’s not here” she remarked once they were driving. Thankfully she wasn’t one of those drivers who turned their head to look at someone while ignoring the road.

“How did you notice?”

“Ugh, we are alone here, you know. Could you for once cut out the sarcasm?”

“I am in a car with a woman who already threatened to destroy every computer I won because the man I am dating, who is also seeing two other people, went to introduce his girlfriend to his family” he pointed out. “When’s the time for sarcasm, if not now?”

“I can tell why Dean told me to keep an eye on you.”

“He told you what?”

“Well he didn’t say that exactly” she admitted. “But he did look at me and announce, “You know Crowley, he’s going to get lost in that weird place in his head when he’s alone.”

It was actually not a bad imitation of Dean’s voice.

“There are no weird places in my head.”

“Sure there aren’t.”

After a pause, Charlie said, “Sarah’s gonna be on your side, I’m sure. Cas... well even if he didn’t like you, he’d still be for the one who has the best chance to make Dean happy, so that’s not a problem either. The only one you have to look out for is Sam. He can be a bit... self-righteous. But you should be able to handle that.”

What Crowley took from that was that there was little chance of him actually getting along with Dean’s brother, and that Charlie seemed to think he would actually make Dean happy if chosen, which strangely exhilarated him. “So what are we actually doing here, Miss Bradbury?”

“Keeping you out of trouble, for one thing, and trying to make you see that it won’t be the end of the world if Sam pulls out all his bitchfaces. And he has a lot of them.”

“You do realize Dean already met my mother and younger brother, do you?”

This time, she did look at him, but it seemed like she was more amused than anything else.

Strangely enough, it seemed like he might be making a friend for the first time in his life.

When Dean retuned, he looked and acted as charming as he usually did, but during his visit that night, it wasn’t difficult to see that he felt rather agitated. “No one said it would be like this – no, that’s not true, Charlie prophesied it, but it’s Charlie.”

Crowley had by no given up on questioning Charlie’s powers himself. It was easier to just accept her and move on. Even now that he had come back, whenever Dean was otherwise engaged, she was sure to show ip now and then, and once more he found himself wondering if she split her time between the three finalists. Somehow, she seemed to have come to the mistaken conclusion that Crowley was someone who needed to be “pilled out of his shell”.

“What do you mean?”

Dean sighed. “Sam is all over Cassie. No, that came out wrong. Sarah would kill him, and Cassie too, now that I think about it. But there was so much _This is exactly who I imagined for you, Dean_ , or _Don’t you think she is perfect, Cas_?”

“Sounds a little aggressive to me but he is a lawyer.”

“I know but I’m not a goddamn jury, am I! I’m his older brother and he should trust me to know what I want, shouldn’t he?”

“You’ve met Oskar.”

“Wonder if he and Sammy would get on:”

“Don’t be unfair to your brother. It can’t be that bad.”

“See, and that is why I gave you the first rose. I knew I could count on you to always be the positive voice at my side.”

Surprising him, Dean leaned his head against his shoulder. “Just... Thanks, man. It means a lot.”

And they stayed like this for what felt like hours, in a mansion where cameras lurked everywhere, roses were seen as currency and a mad producer had been trying for weeks to get more drama out of them.

There was no place Crowley would have rather been.


	19. Chapter 19

Crowley started the day that was to introduce him to Dean’s family once more in a plane with the most beautiful man he’d ever seen cutting of the circulation in his arm. “Have you ever tried –“

“No matter what you are about to say, the answer is yes” he hissed through gritted teeth, “I’m not a doctor for nothing. I have tried everything under the sun.”

“I meant getting sedated and being transported in a cage.”

Dean shot him a glare. “You’re damn lucky you have your looks.”

“I could say the same”.

Dean mumbled something ineligible only to bury his head in Crowley’s shoulder when the plane slightly speeded up.

“Just out of curiosity, how did the others handle you on the verge of a panic attack?”

“By trying to be helpful, which is more than I can say of you.”

“And yet here we are.”

Dean didn’t say anything, but then he hadn’t raised his head from Crowley’s shoulder yet. It seemed to give him some comfort.

So who was Crowley to deny him that?

Apart from the fact that he usually did. But then, Dean Winchester had so far the exception to his every rule.

* * *

 

The house they drove to in Laurence, Kansas proved to be cosy-looking and comfortably furnished, as far as Crowley could see as Dean led him to the living room. There were pictures on every wall, speaking of a close family relationship; if the tall man was Dean’s brother, they looked rather nothing alike, however.

His guess turned out to be correct as they greeted everyone.

Sam was indeed taller than Dean and studying him with unhidden scepticism; his wife Sarah at least greeted him politely and seemed ready to get to know him.

The only one left was Cas, who, with a crooked tie, the bluest eyes he had ever seen and untamed hair, would not have looked bad on Dean’s side. Since nothing had happened so far, however, he supposed that wouldn’t change.

Crowley had never truly been the jealous type for the simple reason that he’d hardly ever felt enough for anyone to be jealous in the first place.

Sam immediately started to question him about his intentions in the voice of a lawyer who suspected a client from not telling the whole truth.

“Sammy give him a second to breathe, he just held my hand through the whole flight.”

“Oh he did?” Sarah looked at Crowley. “That’s a good sign.”

“Dean can be rather...  apprehensive when planes are concerned” Cas said in his surprisingly deep voice.

“How did you notice?”

“Hey! Stop gossiping about me. It’s not even behind my back.”

“Here I thought you’d prefer it if it was done to your face” Crowley replied.

“Bite me, Crowley.”

“If you wish.”

Sarah was looking from Dean to Crowley and back again, raising an eyebrow as she did so. Crowley wondered what she was thinking, especially since she then traded a glance with Cas.

“Well, I still think it’s alright to ask about his intentions. Crowley’s business is in New York, and Dean doesn’t want to move.”

Crowley was decidedly unimpressed. To hear from Dean that he wouldn’t move under any circumstances would have been one thing, but he saw no reason for his brother to announce it like that. “Isn’t that for Dean to decide? And for that matter, so is what we are going to do if –and at this point it is an if – we continue our relationship.”

Oh yes, he thought when Sam glared at him, he definitely didn’t like him. Now that was something he was used to.

“Yeah, Sammy, I –“

“Dean” he hissed, “I just don’t understand – I mean you saw yourself – God knows what I pout you through – are you really going to chose someone who might do the same?”

His blood ran cold.

Dean would never have told them, he knew; Charlie wouldn’t either – she still seemed to like him; that left –

“Crowley, when we get back will you help me kill Roché and hide his body?”

“Of course, sounds like the perfect date to me.”

“How did you know it was him?” Sam demanded.

“Because the guy lives for drama, Sammy. And he’s angry I didn’t keep his eye candy around. No taste.”

“But Dean, it doesn’t matter who told me. Thing is, I know addicts. I was one myself, and –“

“No offense Sam” Sarah said softly, “But everyone reacts differently to such issues. You know your addiction.”

Sam looked at her and his shoulders slumped. Apparently he had married a sensible woman, at least.

“And I think” Cas said carefully, “It’s up to Dean to calculate the risk involved in a relationship with Crowley.”

“That’s true. Thanks, Cas.”

“You know what you are doing. We’ve been working together for so long, I would be an imbecile if I didn’t trust your judgement.”

Dean grinned happily. “There you hear it, Sammy. Cas says Crowley’s cool.”

“I didn’t quite say that” he replied, studying Crowley. He really had quite the stare. Crowley wondered if it calmed down his patients or freaked them out.

“What are your hobbies, then?” Sam asked calmly, apparently trying to make a better impression.

At least he was trying. His mother had never done that.

Alright, then.

If he had to be diplomatic, he would be.

After all, the prize was rather high. “We originally bonded over Vonnegut.”

Sarah and Cas exchanged another glance.

* * *

 

“I think I don’t even have to ask what Sam told you, apart from where I think you’re not supposed to tell me” Crowley said conversationally on the plane. It was as good a distraction for Dean from the taking off as any.

“Oh? You don’t think he endorsed you and demanded we jet over to Vegas to get married on the spot?”

“I don’t think he would have done that under the best of circumstances. Lawyers tend to get a bit nervous about spontaneous weddings.”

“I could have told him I was after your money.”

“I would have demanded a pre-nup. You’re cute, but not that cute.”

“Good to know where your priorities lie.”

It was then Crowley noticed that Dean hadn’t taken his hand, even though they were already flying.

He was looking out the window, too.

“It’s not that I don’t... It’s not that i don’t think I can’t judge for myself” he finally said, sounding sad, “But I would have liked... doesn’t matter.”

Crowley experienced a sensation that, if he admitted to possessing one, he would have called his heart sinking.

* * *

 

“You don’t look good” Benny observed that night at dinner. “In fact both of you look kind of....”

“As if you had an unpleasant day” Cassie supplied cheerfully.

“Dean and airplanes” was all the answer Crowley gave. Both of them winced in sympathy.

Dean’s hand found his under the table and squeezed.

Perhaps things weren’t looking so bad after all.

* * *

 

Dean apparently was not going for the usual overdramatic reveal, but that was hardly a surprise. IF he could get away with anything that would annoy Roché, he probably would.

The first rose for Cassie was completely expected. After all, if what Dean had told him was anything to go by, Sam had left precious little doubt as to who he would prefer to see in the finale.

“Oh hey, almost forgot. Crowley!”

He turned around and found a rose being thrown his way. He quickly caught it between his fingers, careful to miss any thorns.

Dean grinned. “Looks like someone owes me ten dollars. They thought you wouldn’t be able to catch it.”

Just from his face, Crowley suspected that person was Charlie.

Then, with a wink, Dean was gone.

“Sorry” Benny told the cameras, “If you want me to cry you’ll be disappointed.”

Crowley stared at the rose.

Against the odds, he had made it to the finale.

Not that he didn’t normally accomplish what he had sat his mind on... but it was still nice to prove once more he could.


	20. Chapter 20

With the finale moving closer and closer, even Crowley could admit that the mansion suddenly faelt much too small. Then again, that was probably normal, considering there were only three people in it, now.

Cassie was as friendly as ever, having breakfast and lunch with Crowley; Dean made himself scarce, or as would have been more accurate to say, he made himself scarce when there were cameras around.

He still sneaked into Crowley’s room at night.

He knew very well that he shouldn’t be reading anything into this – after all, him spending his evenings with Crowley had to mean that he spent an equal amount of the day on Cassie – at least Crowley thought this more than probable; but still – there was something about him being the very last person Dean saw on any given day that was rather flattering, in a way he’d never known before.

Until now, he had always been the pursuer in his so-called relationships; and while he technically still was, concerning the format of the show, it was Dean who had all the power, and could throw him out whenever he chose to.

He would have liked to say that this was annoying but it was also... exciting.

After all, whether or not he spent his mornings with Cassie, Crowley highly doubted that he daily climbed through a window for her.

One evening, Dean appeared more exhausted than usual and it occurred to Crowley actually unprompted that he might want to talk about it. “Is everything alright?”

“Man, I must look really bad if you are concerned” Dean said casually, once more leaning against him. “It’s just... everything. I have to give interviews all the time, Balthazar is chasing me around the mansion, I’m just ready for it to be over. If I didn’t have Charlie and – “ he abruptly stopped talking and Crowley wondered what name he had been about to say out loud. “Point is, it ain’t easy being the Bachelor.”

“In assume most people would be inclined to disagree” Crowley said smoothly. Dean punched his arm.

“That’s not the way to a man’s heart, you know. Although, the part of this whole thing that might be the most difficult is to pretend I don’t have a favourite...” He huffed. “No idea why the other guys had so many problems who to choose.”

Crowley swallowed. If there was one thing he wasn’t used to, it was coming second place; and he was determined not to do that now, either. Granted, he had no clue how they would move forward once Dean had chosen him instead of Cassie; after all, he wasn’t exactly an expert when it came to relationships; but that didn’t mean he was ready to lose.

“At least you know what to do” he said smoothly. “And no one can be certain how much pressure the producers put on the others.”

“True. To be fair, I am shamelessly using the fact that I am their first bisexual bachelor which means they can boast about their inclusivity so that I can annoy Roché.”

“A praiseworthy goal if you ask me.”

“Isn’t it?” Dean  beamed. “And like I said, I’ve got Charlie. Should have seen my face when I first realized.”

“She said she went because Cas isn’t exactly a people person.”

Dean snorted. “Cas just didn’t want to have to pretend he knows anything about make up or clothes. He can lie and cheat as well as any.” A pause. “We’d hardly be friends if he couldn’t.”

That was just the problem with Dean Winchester – most people would tune in on his show to watch an all-American guy choose his soul mate; but there was more to him, so much more than met the eye, and that was utterly captivating. “And here I thought you didn’t like bad boys.”

Dean laughed then; his fascinating, happy laugh that had gotten to Crowley on that very first night. “Yeah, that’s why I’m keeping you for the finale.”

“Maybe you just wanted to shake up the boring formula of this show a bit; you know to prove you’re more than a walking Ken doll.”

“I will never get enough of your compliments.” Dean paused. “Still, even though I don’t get how the other guys didn’t realize who was the one... it’s true that it’s not that easy. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Again, you do realize what show you signed up for, right?”

“Says the guy who has never seen a single episode. Until now, at least. Pretty sure you’re the kind of guy who has to tune in to admire himself.”

The question was whether or not he would be watching with Dean – because, if he should win, he’d already decided, there was absolute no reason to follow the stupid rule that they couldn’t see each other until the show aired. Certainly Dean would agree.

If he chose him.

* * *

 

“It’s very quiet without Benny around” Cassie said, sitting down opposite Crowley at the breakfast table.

“I think it only appears that way because so many people left in the past few weeks, not just him.”

“Probably” she agreed amicably. One of the best things about getting along with the second finalist was not only that the meals were much more relaxed than Crowley had been led to believe they would be, but also that Roché was probably having a coronary somewhere in the building.

“Are you nervous?” she suddenly asked.

Crowley thought it best to reply with a shrug. “It’s not as if it’s the end oif the world if he doesn’t pick me... or as if a happy ending is guaranteed if he does. How many couples are still together?”

“True, but there’s always the hope one is the exception.” Her smile turns a little sarcastic. “And sometimes reality TV is just too easy to predict, isn’t it?”

He wondered what she meant.

The door opened and Dean strolled in. “Wow I never realized how big this place is.”

“We were saying the same” Cassie replied.

“Anyway, just to warn you – we’ll have to give more interviews; is there a chance one of you could start crying so Roché will stop complaining?” Dean asked while piling bacon on his plate.

Crowley would have to talk to him about his eating habits eventually. He had to stay healthy if –

Dear God, he was thinking about them as a couple already.

“I think I’ll have to pass” Cassie said mildly. “But maybe you can get Crowley to cry.”

“We could force him to wear jeans again, that should do the trick.”

“I can cry spontaneously, if I have to.”

“Ah, yes, of course, forgot that you’re a manipulative bastard” Dean said, his mouth full. “Well, wouldn’t have you any other way.”

Cassie’s smile turned sarcastic again as she watched them, but Crowley didn’t have a chance to ask since at that moment Charlie dropped by to get him for his interview.

“Just so you know, your usual answers probably won’t cut it today” she warned him on the way.

Oh well.

The interview, he could handle.


	21. Chapter 21

“Do you love Dean?”

“I fail to see why I should use such a word as _love_ in the context of this show.”

“That wasn’t a _No_ ” Bela pointed out.

“It was most definitively not a _Yes_ , either.” In truth, Crowley was rather worried about the fact that he was starting to suspect that what he was feeling for Dean Winchester came indeed rather close to romantic love – for the first time in his life, and he in his mid-fifties.

Bela raised an eyebrow and he had the uncomfortable epiphany that she knew. Thankfully, she soon afterward left him off the hook.

He tried to convince himself that what he had seen in her eyes hadn’t been pity.

* * *

 

When Crowley had thought of the finale, he’d always wondered how bad it could actually be. In the worst case, he’d spent several weeks for free in a gorgeous mansion, and he certainly hadn’t been bored.

And still –

“Dean Winchester” he said slowly when he saw where Dean had taken him for their final date, “I am going to kill you.”

“Aw, you love me, and you know it” Dean replied as he strolled up to the mini golf course.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“You know, you can always leave and save me the decision” Dean said cheekily. Crowley was rather sure he was being sarcastic.

“Fine Winchester. But only because I am naturally competitive, not because I’m going to forget about this anytime soon.”

He had told Dean he was relieved that they hadn’t had to play mini golf during one of their talks, and the surgeon knew exactly that he couldn’t say anything against it because that would have given away how much time they had spent together.

And so, all that was left to do was glower at Dean and win the game.

* * *

 

“How are you so good at this?” Dean complained.

“I make it a point of always winning the games I choose to play.”

“And here I thought you didn’t choose to play this.”

“Semantics, Winchester.”

“Logic, Crowley.”

Begrudgingly he had to admit that this was even a little bit of fun – although it was more than likely that this was due to being here with Dean, rather than the game having anything to offer.

“Shouldn’t we be talking about the future or anything like that? I’ve never seen the show, and since you are the one who loves trash TV –“

“Now what a second –“

“You watch Doctor Sexy. As a surgeon.”

Dean pressed a hand against his own heart. “How could you betray me like that? I was doing an amazing job at looking cool, dude.”

“In other words, you were lying?”

“How dare you –“

Crowley shut him up with a kiss, deciding they’d bickered quite enough for the moment.

“You’re lucky you’re cute” Dean mumbled when they broke apart.

“I assure you, this is not an adjective that has been used to describe me before – especially not by my family.”

“And here I thought you were the apple of your mother’s eye. At least your younger brother clearly adores you.”

“Rather sure you’ve got us confused.”

Dean stopped and blinked. “Was that a _compliment_?”

“Take it any way you want.”

Dean beamed. “A compliment, then! And only had to wait for the ever last date! Lucky me!”

* * *

 

Crowley thought their date had gone rather well, even if Dean would discuss his choice with his family once more and Sam probably wouldn’t be on his side – again – but still, there was one very important factor that both he and Dean must be aware of.

Cassie was not only the safe choice, but also the easier one.

He was a man who had fallen in love for the first time in his life when he had thought himself safe from any such nonsense, set in his ways and, to put it mildly, a bastard who’d ruined a fair share of men and women on his way to the top. Cassie on other hand was friendly, outgoing, and probably wouldn’t have any problems making compromises when it came to her and Dean’s relationship.

The odds were not in his favour.

But then, the only reason they ever had been was that he had made them so.

* * *

 

He didn’t mean to eavesdrop – mostly because he had had no idea that Dean and Roché would have a meeting today; but then it was probably to be expected.

He really had only meant to fetch a book from the library when he heard Dean starting to shout. “I don’t care how it looks, it’s my life, and –“

“That doesn’t matter at all, darling” Roché drawled. “I’ve allowed you to have your fun until now, but you have to know –“

“I know, alright? Have known for a while. You can ask anyone. Hell, Sheryl told me to my face!”

“That’s all very good on paper, but you do realize we will have to –“

Crowley moved on. If Dean wanted him to know, he would tell him eventually.

Good God, dean Winchester might actually make a decent man out of him.

* * *

 

“So it’s just you and me, now.”

“And Dean” Crowley said mildly as Cassie sat down next to him, a drink in her hand.

“True. But I don’t think there’s a high chance of dean being eliminated” she pointed out.

Yes, he’d always rather liked Cassie, right from the start.

Apart from that little problem that she might very well ride off into the sunset with what Crowley was begrudgingly coming to admit might very well be the love of his life rather soon.

“May the best one win, hm?” Cassie toasted him, again with that sarcastic smile on her lips.

At least, he reflected, there was every reason to think that she would be an equal partner to Dean.

If only he hadn’t been so selfish; the thought might have given him some comfort, then.

* * *

 

Naturally, he wasn’t told if he was the first one to get out of the limousine and whether Dean was about to tactfully break up with him, even though he would have still made the case that there was little reason to call it a break up considering they had not truly been dating.

As he got out, he couldn’t help but notice that Dean wore the same suit he had had to put on when they first met. Surely, that was a good sign? Then again maybe the show just wanted to up the drama once more.

Dean smiled when he saw him, although there was a hint of pain his eyes – because he had just said goodbye to Cassie, or because of what was going to happen now? “There you are.”

“It would appear so. Or are you expecting someone else?” Crowley drawled.

Dean chuckled. “Should have known that’s how you’d react.”

And then, in his typical Dean Winchester way, he grinned once more, pressed a quick kiss to Crowley’s lips and pinned the final rose to his lapel before turning to the camera, raising his arms and shourti8ng, “That’s all, folks.”

Too bad their blooming relationship would be cut short because Crowley would _definitely_ kill him for that, if Roché didn’t get to him first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a sucker for the "everyone knows but the protagonist" trope, I am afraid.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a great author once wrote, "Let other pens dwell on pain and mysery." Enjoy the fluff!

As it turned out, of course this wasn’t “all, folks.” Roché immediately made them sit down and discuss their future, which, as he pointed out, they had so far failed to do – or rather, Dean had failed to do with any candidate.

He just shrugged and grinned. “Didn’t see the point if I saw no future with them, know what I am saying?”

“Fine, just do it with your first choice now, or by God –“

“Anyway” Bela interrupted them brightly, “Should we be honest or not?”

“What do you mean?” Balthazar asked.

Both Bela and Dean stared at him. “You are aware” the host finally answered, “That Dean was set on Crowley from the beginning, right?”

While he wouldn’t have quite agreed with that statement, he had to admit that Roché’s expression was rather amusing.

* * *

 

“So seems like it’s you and me” Dean began once the producer had calmed down and they could actually film their talk.

“And about a dozen cameras. Pure romance.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I did notice that, imagine that.”

“Just thought it would be prudent to point it out; there would hardly be a reason to get together with an idiot, no matter how pretty.”

“Alright now that we are aware of just how well you think of me, let’s talk... Since you are so good at noticing things, I assume you realized I didn’t propose to you tonight?”

“Yes. Good thing too. I wouldn’t have said yes.”

He could practically hear the gasps from the camera men.

“I know. You’d never accept someone on such a short acquaintance” Dean said lightly. “So I thought we’d be darting for now – if you agree of course, your Highness.”

“I did accept the rose – no wait, you pinned it on me. Again. Does this even mean I accepted it or you just claimed ownership?”

“If I thought anyone _could_ own you, this wouldn’t have been my choice.”

Life with Dean Winchester, Crowley suspected, would be rather unusual.

And also quite fun.

* * *

 

Crowley was back in New York after filming the finale, plotting ways to get to see Dean without the producers or the public noticing when someone –

Knocked on his window.

“I live” he declared as he let Dean in, “on the third floor.”

“I noticed. This is rather a disadvantage, you know.”

“How –“

“I am good at this stuff, mister.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“Wow and he notices another thing. And here I thought you’d be glad to see me –“

Crowley dragged him into a kiss.

They could talk later.

Much later.

* * *

 

“Just so I know, what’s your cover story?”

“Oh, I’ve gone to Nebraska for a few days, you know, to clear my head. Charlie and Cas are holding down the fort.”

“Why Nebraska?”

“It was the weirdest place Charlie could spontaneously get tickets to.”

Dear God, what kind of weirdos had he decided to align himself with?

Well, he thought as Dean reached out to him again, at least one of them was decidedly good looking.

* * *

 

They spent the weekends together; Dean acted just as he had in front of the cameras. Apparently he was the only person in living memory who’d decided not to put on an act.

Just as well. Crowley had grown rather fond of him, after all.

Gavin called on Sunday around twelve. “Father?” he sounded decidedly panicked.

“Yes?”

“Is everything alright? I am sorry, but we haven’t heard of you since you filmed the finale, and –“

“Hey Crowley, pasta for lunch alright?”

Dean was surprisingly adept in the kitchen, and so far he’d never led him astray. “Yes.”

Gavin’s stunned silence told him he’d heard him. “Was that – I thought you weren’t supposed to –“

“No, but then, why should we care about that?”

“Who are you talking to?”

“Gavin –“

And Dean plucked the phone out of his hand and declared brightly, “Hey, it’s your new stepdad!”

If he didn’t end up killing him after all, they might be in it for the long haul.

* * *

 

Crowley had decided to take a vacation for as long as Dean stayed with him, and he probably should have expected this.

But he still thought nothing could have prepared him for the six foot lawyer who should up on his doorstep on the following Wednesday. “Where is he?”

Dean groaned from somewhere in the apartment. “Sammy –“

“You don’t call, you don’t text, what was I supposed to think?”

“That I am to happily busy to do any of those things?”

Sam stomped past Crowley, who felt that this was decidedly impolite behaviour. “Dean –“

“What, Sammy, your favourite didn’t win, do you want me to apologize –“

“Dean, this is not –“

“Listen, I know you wanted me to pick Cassie, and I can see why, alright? But the truth is –“ Dean looked past his brother and right into Crowley’s eyes. “The decision was pretty much made for me on that first night, and I never wavered.”

Sam shook his head. “How can you possibly –“

“That’s it” Crowley declared, having had enough of this drama. Surely now that the cameras were off, they were supposed to be a normal couple for once? “You might be a lawyer, and Dean keeps insisting that you are the best one ion your state too, but if you insist on shouting at my partner I am going to throw you out, and the only question that remains is whether it’s going to be through the door or the window.”

Dean’s expression morphed into one that he had come to appreciate in the last few days – maybe not when his brother was in the same room, however – and Sam stared at them in turn, his mouth hanging slightly open before answering with an eloquent “Oh.”

Years later, he would tell Crowley that was the moment the penny dropped for him.

* * *

 

Despite the secrecy that they had technically agreed to when they signed their contracts, Dean and Crowley saw each other at least every two weeks from then on. With people like Charlie and Cas on their side, it wasn’t difficult to constantly find new excuses why one of them just happened to be unavailable at the moment.

That said, practical as it may have been, Crowley hadn’t been aware that to win meant not only to get together with Dean but become part of a somewhat strange patchwork family.

One day he opened his door to find Charlie holding a tablet up to him. “Do you even know how Simmons talks about you in her emails?”

He supposed it was a gesture of affection.

Cas, at least, seemed content to simply threaten him to carve his heart out one time if he ever did anything to hurt the surgeon soon after he and Dean got together.

* * *

 

Crowley would readily admit that he was rather irritated at how little irritated he was at Dean’s attempts to reconcile him within his immediate family. Gavin and Fiona were soon so fond of him as to make Crowley suspect they were already planning the wedding, and even Mother and Oskar seemed to fall for his boyish charms all over again when they met, even though this could have been the perfect opportunity for Oskar to screw them over again by letting the producers know what they were up to.

“Oh” Dean said one evening when Crowley told him, “Don’t worry. He’s been quiet about it since I) threatened to cut out his liver with a steak knife.”

Crowley looked at him.

“I’m a surgeon. I’m good with knives.”

He dragged him into a kiss.

* * *

 

As the airdate neared, they couldn’t spend as much time together as they wanted, since Dean was now forced to give interview upon interview and tease the ending of his season, and Crowley was supposed to lie low.

He still watched the interviews, even though Gavin and Fiona kept teasing him that he must miss his boyfriend very much.

 _Boyfriend_. Such a juvenile word.

Still, it was a good thing that he did watch, since during the penultimate interview before the premiere, Bela asked, “And Dean, have you found love?” with a knowing grin.

“I think” he answered carefully, “That I can reasonably say I have.”

Five minutes later, Crowley had texted him a request that they move in together.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well my friends, here we are at the last chapter. I hope this story has entertained you for a bit, and have a nice day!

“You two are still not supposed to be seen together, you know that?”

“Sammy, do you really think we don’t know how to sneak around?”

He sighed. “I know you do. That’s the problem.”

“Fail to see how” Dean simply answered. “Hey Crowley, pass me the popcorn, would you?”

He did so. How them watching the premiere together in Dean’s house had transformed into a party that somehow also included Charlie, Gavin, Cas and Fiona, he wasn’t exactly sure.

He’d always thought that people claiming that one didn’t get together with a single person but an entire family was rather ridiculous, and yet...

“Finally someone good looking on TV” Dean declared as he let himself fall down on the couch next to him, watching himself talk about... well, himself.

“Patience, I’m not there yet.”

“Aw, you two are adorable” Charlie decided, grinning from ear to ear. “So I hear you’ll be moving to Kansas?”

After he and Dean had talked it over after his interview, Crowley had quickly realized that Dean had many more reasons to stay in his hometown than had ever bound him to New York. His business was well enough that he could direct it from a distance, especially since Charlie was helping him to once and for all clear out the bad apples; and when he had asked Gavin, he had told him that “planes already exist, Father” (well, not quite – his first reaction had been to exclaim in an overdramatic fashion that Dean insisted he had inherited from him “Who are you?”).

So yes, it seemed very much like he would be moving to Lawrence – after the finale had aired, since Sam had advised them that they “couldn’t hid it forever” (Crowley didn’t agree with him, he was rather sure he and Dean could do everything they put their mind to, but if it helped reconcile him to their relationship –)

“There he is” dean announced, slipping his arm around Crowley’s shoulder.

And he did really look good on TV, even if he did say so himself.

“Oh my God, Father” Gavin breathed as they watched his first interview in which he made it very clear that he’d rather be anywhere else. “How did you win this again?”

“Wait and see” he said, even though he was already sure they’d cut the footage to make him look even worse. Maybe Roché still held a grudge.

And of course they lingered on the fight and Sheryl throwing her champagne at him.

Charlie kept them entertained whole watching the reactions on social media.

“ _Tbh I would have thrown the champagne too. Has he even seen Dean? How do you_ not _want to be on this show? #whatadick_ Aw Crowley you already have fans.”

“It must be my wonderful personality.”

“Definitely” Dean said, kissing him.

“Oh, the rose ceremony!”

Even Crowley had to admit that his expression when he glanced down and saw the rose was amusing.

Charlie looked down at her phone and laughed. “ _The face of a man who realizes he almost crashed a Ferrari on purpose”._  

It cut to Dean’s interview. “Yes, I did keep Crowley around, don’t look at me like that.” He grinned. “I never could resist a bad boy in a suit – just ask my brother about my exes.”

Sam let out an audible sigh and Dean threw him a dirty look.

“Really Father, it can only get better from here, right?” Gavin asked.

“Don’t count on it” Charlie said, “There’s already speculation that they made Dean keep Crowley around to be the villain. Oh this is going to be so much fun!”

Crowley couldn’t quite agree with here there, but he supposed, since he was the one Dean was snuggling up to, he could live with it.

* * *

 

The day after the episode of their first date aired, Charlie called him, sounding excited. Reluctantly, Crowley had admitted to himself that he couldn’t spend all his time in Kansas with Dean, at least for now, and so he was back in New York for a week.

That hadn’t stopped them texting and calling, though.

“Guess what!”

“Hello to you too, Charlie.”

“People are coming round! I found a few who are wondering whether you might have a chance to win this. Not a majority, naturally. Most think it’s going to be Cassie, but that just means they’re in for a surprise!”

“That’s... nice” he said.

“Come on, now that you two are in the spotlight, you need a social media expert!”

“And that would be you?”

“You bet.”

* * *

 

Charlie hadn’t been lying – a few weeks later she read them a thread while they were watching the latest episode. For some reason, not only had Dean decided to come to New York, but to take Cas and her with him.

“Why I am team Drowley. A thread. Oh my God – you two have a ship name!”

“Do I want to know?” Crowley asked Dean.

“Probably not.”

“1. I thought he was a bastard but Crowley is already falling hard for Dean. 2. He painted him a picture of a man strangling another guy. 3. Yeah, he might not be here for the right reasons, but that means he’s honest.”

Dean snorted. “Right. Crowley the honest business man.”

“I always keep my deals.”

“Of course you do.”

“4.” Charlie continued, “The way he looks at Dean.”

“Wouldn’t that be part of number 1?” Cas asked.

“Shippers don’t need your facts, Cas.”

“Are you sure I don’t want to know?” Crowley asked.

“Positive” Dean assured him. “Charlie I just – tell me there’s no fanart, please.”

“Not yet, but do you want there to be? I have this friend who’s –“

“Charlie!”

* * *

 

By the time the final came around, most viewers were surprised that Crowley had made it that far. It seemed that many had expected him to be eliminated after the hometown visits.

“I knew the internet was full of idiots –“ Dean began.

“Don’t be like that” Charlie said.

“It’s blindingly obvious who I’m into. And I thought I was doing a great job at hiding it.”

* * *

 

Crowley was pretty sure they didn’t fool Bela for a second, even though she congratulated them on “finally” seeing each other again.

“Oh yeah, it’s hard to stay away from your man for so long” Dean replied, his eyes sparkling.

“And are you two engaged?”

He shook his head. “No. We’re taking it one day at a time.”

That, Crowley had already decided, didn’t mean they would never be married. He’d be a fool to allow this man to leave.

* * *

 

**Fifteen years later**

“Where’s Emma? She’s going to miss all the fun.”

“She is calling her friends and explaining that I am the worst tyrant imaginable because I wouldn’t let her go to that party alone. Why did I agree that we should adopt again?”

“First of all, Emma adores you, and second of all, I don’t recall you protesting much after I put her in your arms at the home.”

Crowley sighed. When Gavin had first shown up at his door, he had consoled himself with the fact that he’d never have to deal with teenage tantrums, and now this.

At this moment, he heard a sniff and turned around to see their thirteen-year-old. “I’m sorry, Father.”

She had called Gavin then as well.

“It’s alright. You understand my reasoning?”

She nodded, still sniffling a bit.

“Ah, come on Em, you can help me make the burgers for our guests.”

She immediately brightened when she heard the word “burgers” and once again, Crowley wondered if Dean had tricked him and she was actually his biological daughter.

An hour later, they were once more surrounded by their family and friends as they watched a _Where  are they now?_ Episode of The Bachelor.

“Alright, but no one wants to end this on a sad note” Donna Hanscum, who had taken over as a host for Bela a few years ago, finally announced. “We all know most Bachelor couples sadly haven’t made it. But I can happily announce that Dean Winchester and Crowley from season 24 are still married and raising their daughter together. And because I can’t wait for you to find out – Crowley kept the final rose Dean gave him!”

“They really shouldn’t make that big a deal out of it” Crowley complained. So he kept the rose under a glass cover. So what?

“I think it’s romantic” Sarah said.

“I like to be reminded of my successes.”

“No chance to admit he’s nostalgic, sorry” Dean told her. “He’s a bastard with no moral compass.” He looked at Crowley and his eyes softened. “He’s my bastard, though.”

And that, Crowley thought as he drew him into a kiss that was strictly speaking a bit too passionate to share in front of their family, was quite worth the many _I told you sos_ he’d heard from Gavin over the years.


End file.
